


colorblind

by yourinternetkid



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer - Freeform, Ashton Irwin - Freeform, Calum Hood - Freeform, F/M, Just bros being bros, Luke Hemmings - Freeform, Michael Clifford - Freeform, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Soulmate AU, also featuring some josh dun, and boys being best friends, and nudity, but its nothing you wouldnt expect from a 5sos fic, cause I love him, colorblind, its cute, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:45:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7289092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourinternetkid/pseuds/yourinternetkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>what would happen if the world was suddenly in grayscale?</p><p>---</p><p>(basically this was just me playing with the idea of a soulmate au till three in the morning last night. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. calum

_**December 1993** _

1993 was just another year. Terrible things happened, beautiful things happened, and by the time Christmas came around, everyone was looking forward to the next year. The world held it's breath, dared to hope for more, made promises that were sure to be broken and then renewed the next year.

New Year's came and went, one year passing seemingly effortlessly into the next. No one could have known about the change that took place on the stroke of midnight, January 1, 1994. No one could have guessed that the biggest scandal in history was taking place, right under their very noses.

_**June 1995** _

Only 18 months later, everyone had already forgotten about New Year's Day, 1994. It was just another celebration to be forgotten and relived once a year. 1995 had it's own terrible things, it's own beautiful things, to occupy people's thoughts.

That is until Phoebe Sweet noticed something strange.

Phoebe had been working at East Valley Daycare for almost ten years. She'd seen countless babies, toddlers, and preschoolers through before sending them off to primary school. She'd met hundreds of busy parents, stressed aunts, scared adoptees. She'd witnessed thousand of tantrums, playground injuries, and budding friendships. Phoebe thought that she'd seen it all.

It was a Tuesday in May when it started. Babies that were only one and a half years old were starting to walk, talk, and communicate. It was a wonderful time in child development, full of firsts. Phoebe was sitting on the floor with Abigail, a stubborn, red and curly haired girl whose speech ability was more advanced than most of her peers. Phoebe was pointing at the different colored, foam puzzle pieces on the floor, trying to teach Abigail which color was which.

"Red, Abby".

Abigail would nod and repeat, "Wed."

"Blue."

"Bwoo."

After a few minutes of cycling through all the colors Phoebe pointed to the purple puzzle piece Abigail was sitting on. "What color is that Abby?"

"Wed."

Phoebe smiled softly, "No, Abby that's purple."

"Puwple."

"That's right." Phoebe watched as Abigail's eyes moved across the colored tiles. Earlier the baby had seemed to understand when Phoebe had walked her through the colors. Abigail was a fast learner, and Phoebe was a slightly taken aback that she had forgotten her colors so quickly. But the teacher brushed it off as a mistake and pointed to a different puzzle piece only a little distance away.

"What color is that piece Abby?"

"Puwple."

Phoebe frowned, "That one is green. Do you remember the color green Abby?"

"Gween."

Phoebe was perplexed as she continued to quiz Abigail on the colors, even going over them again with her several times to try and aid her learning. But no matter how hard Phoebe tried she couldn't get Abigail to understand the difference between blue and orange, or green and red. It was as if they all looked the same to the baby. Phoebe wondered if the little girl may be color blind, and made a mental note to ask her parents to work more with her on her colors as she started getting the daycare ready for nap time.

Only an hour later and naptime was over. Phoebe was playing with trucks with a group of boys in the corner of the day care. Thomas was dragging a blue truck across the wall when Phoebe started trying to teach him what she had failed to teach Abigail.

She played the point and name game, telling all the boys in the circle what colors each truck were. The boys watched intently, their eyes wide. Phoebe smiled to herself, they seemed to be getting it. Thomas picked up a yellow truck and was about to throw it at Dean when Phoebe gently took the toy from his hands, holding it up in her palm for all the boys to see. "What color is this Thomas?"

Thomas blinked a few times, looking perplexed. "Gween?"

Phoebe's shoulders slumped, "Not quite Thomas," she turned to Dean, "How 'bout you Dean? What color is the truck?"

Dean studied the toy before squeaking, "Bwoo?"

Phoebe sighed, "No Dean," and continued to ask the other boys in the circle. After all four had tried and failed to guess the color correctly, Pheobe set the truck down and rose to grab herself a cup of water. Maybe she had just lost her touch. But that didn't seem plausible. Phoebe knew how babies learned. She had used this method with other children that were the same age just a year before, and they seemed to understand perfectly well the difference between purple and yellow.

That day when the parents came to pick up their children Phoebe asked them all to practice learning the colors of the rainbow with their kids. The parents looked slightly confused at the request but all promised to practice before the next day.

The next morning Phoebe arrived at the daycare an hour earlier than opening, as she usually did. She made her way to the baby's playroom, set out a few toys for the children to play with, and made sure that everything was completely clean before heading to the front desk to begin checking kids in.

The first child to arrive was Abigail. Her mother had a busy schedule at her office job, so she was always the first child in the daycare and usually the last to leave. Phoebe greeted Abigail's mother as she took the red head into her arms, writing her name down on the attendance sheet.

"I did what you asked yesterday," Abigail's mother spoke. Phoebe glanced up from the clipboard she was writing on.

"Oh?"

"I tried to teach her the colors. But she didn't seem to get it, no matter how hard I tried."

"Hm," Phoebe put down her pen and looked at the distraught mother, "Maybe she's... color blind?"

"Maybe," Abigail's mother frowned before shaking her head and readjusting the purse hanging off her shoulder. "I'll try to work with her more tonight, maybe she just isn't getting it."

Phoebe nodded, "I'll work on it this afternoon with her. Maybe I'll have the whole class play a little game, get all the kids in on the fun," she smiled reassuringly at Abigail's mother. The woman gave a tight lipped smile back before waving and slipping out the door. Phoebe set Abigail down on the ground as another parent entered the building, and watched as she tottered towards the building blocks.

Phoebe was surprised to hear from the next parent that they had had the same struggle with their child. Colors just weren't making sense. Phoebe told them of her plans to teach the kids about color that afternoon and reassured the parent that everything would be fine before politely dismissing them as more and more parents and children started to arrive. As she signed each child in and had a quick chat with each parent, it seemed that all of them had encountered the same problem.

_"He couldn't understand the difference between any of them. I wonder if he has a problem with his eyes... do you think I should get them checked?"_

"It's too early to tell, I wouldn't worry about it."

_"She didn't understand the difference between red and blue. My oldest picked up colors in a day. Do you think something's wrong?"_

"Every child is different, I'm sure with some more practice she'll pick them up just fine."

And on and on.

Phoebe held true on her promise. That afternoon she played color name games with the entire class. It was chaotic and a bit disorganized, but she managed. Or, sort of managed. By the end of the entire ordeal, all of the children had failed to learn the difference between the colors. They seemed confused, and had to be reminded about which color was which constantly. Phoebe didn't understand what was wrong, and when the parent's came back that evening to pick up their children, she asked them once again to practice identifying colors with their kids.

Two weeks later and Phoebe was convinced that there was something wrong with her entire class. She had managed to teach the children the difference between a cow and a dog, between an apple and a banana, but she could not get them to understand the difference between red and blue.

The parents were equally, if not more, concerned than Phoebe was. Abigail's mother had actually taken her daughter to an eye doctor, and then to a pediatrician, and then to a certified "baby therapist" (Phoebe wasn't so sure about that one) to try and figure out why the bright little girl couldn't grasp the concept of color.

Phoebe and the concerned parents were completely oblivious to the fact that this was happening all across the globe. Children everywhere were failing to learn the difference between colors. They were utterly dismayed when the first news article came out, reporting the phenomena. It only took one headline before cities all across the world were reporting the same problem. Children in London, New York, Sydney, Dubai, Tokyo, Vancouver, Rio; children everywhere were learning about everything except the rainbow. Soon parents everywhere were in hysteria. It seemed that every child under two years of age could not learn their colors.

It only took a week of panic before one article finally pointed out what should have been obvious from the very beginning. 

_"It seems that as the statistics roll in, 99.8% of children surveyed are unable to learn the difference between color. Even the proclaimed child genius Brody Anderson who is already reading at only 19 months of age is unable to tell the difference between green and orange. **But perhaps the problem is not that these children cannot learn about color, but that they cannot see color at all.**"_

That was all it took, just a sentence to set off a full scale, world wide investigation. Optometrists were baffled at what they found. After months of research it seemed as though there was nothing wrong with the children's eyes that would give cause to the issue. There was no sudden lapse in cone development in the eye, or any other sort of structural issue. All signs pointed to these children having well working, fully functional eyes. And they did, for the most part. It was just that they couldn't see color. That was it. There was no explanation.

By the time it was 1996 parents had to adjust. There were still ongoing tests, not just on the children born in 1994, but on the children born in the years following, to see if the phenomena was to continue. Scientists and researchers still strived to find an explanation for the sudden change. There was still work to be done. But by 1996, parents were done waiting for test results and statistics. They continued to teach their toddlers about the world, they just stopped trying to teach them about color. They accepted the fact that for their babies, everything was in black in white. And while that was disheartening, they didn't let it take over. Instead they kept going. It was all they could do. And if they were being perfectly honest, there was really nothing wrong with a life in grayscale.

_**September 1997** _

Phoebe had moved on from helping the babies to helping the toddlers. She rotated positions once every few years. She liked kids of all ages, so she didn't mind having to leave the babies behind to teach the three year olds. She enjoyed seeing the kids start to grow up. She was sitting on the floor with Abigail again, the little redhead now a stubborn three year old. Abigail was concentrating very hard on her coloring when Phoebe heard a ding from the front desk. She excused herself from the little girl (who didn't seem to care much anyway) before heading for the front. There stood a nervous looking father holding his son. Phoebe didn't even have a chance to say 'hello' before the man thrust his hand forward,

"Hi, I'm Jason."

Phoebe took his hand and shook it, "Phoebe, it's nice to meet you."

"You too," the man smiled, drawing his hand back and hoisting his son up higher in his arms. "This is Cameron, he was supposed to be here earlier for his first day but we had a hard time getting out the door this morning." Jason smiled apologetically. Phoebe chuckled and grabbed a pen from the cup next to her, flipping through some pages on the clipboard on the desk.

"Ah, yes, I see here. I thought we had one missing," she smiled at Cameron as Jason set him down on the ground. The little boy stood shyly next to his father as he finished signing him into the daycare before planting a kiss on the top of Cameron's head and heading for the door.

Cameron, though shy, was quite brave as he took Phoebe's hand and let her lead him into the daycare. The little boy's eyes scanned the room, watching the other children play as he followed Phoebe back to where she had been sitting previously with Abigale.

"Do you like coloring Cameron?" She asked. He nodded, not speaking but looking content enough to follow Phoebe to the small table where Abigail sat. He looked at his shoes as they finally arrived. The red headed girl was still scribbling away, not looking up even as Phoebe sat down next to her.

"Abby, this is Cameron. He's going to color with us."

Finally, Abigail looked up from her drawing. And as her blue eyes fell on Cameron's shy face, his eyes still downcast, she let out a sudden gasp, her crayons falling from her hands. The three year old almost fell from her chair as she frantically began looking around, her breath quickening as tears began to well up in her eyes. Phoebe stood from her chair and crouched at the little girl's side, trying to get her to calm down, not noticing Cameron's shocked expression as he stared at Abigail.

"Abby, what's wrong sweetheart? Are you hurt?" Phoebe tried to console the crying girl while Abigail just hiccupped through her tears, her mouth opening and closing as her eyes moved frantically around the room before finally coming to rest on Cameron. Cameron looked a strange mixture of terrified and awestruck. A look of concern stretched across Phoebe's face.

"Cameron? Are you alright?"

"Uh..." The boy was at a loss for words. Abigail seemed to be equally dumbstruck as the two couldn't stop staring at eachother. Phoebe tried to get both of them to explain what was going on for another twenty minutes before finally calling both of their parents. She explained that something strange had happened when the two met, that they both seemed to be in shock, that they couldn't stop looking at their surroundings, at each other.

"It's almost like they can see something that I can't." She told Abigail's mother, who she could hear was frantically packing things away as she prepared to leave the office. The woman didn't seem to hear her as she said a quick "I'll be there soon" before hanging up. Phoebe approached the two toddlers again, crouching down next them.

"I called your mummy, Abby, and she's coming to pick you up." Abigail didn't respond. She just continued to stare wide eyed at Cameron.

"And I called your daddy Cameron, he'll be here soon to take you home."

"No." The small boy spoke for the first time, and Phoebe let out an accidental gasp.

"What?"

"I don't wanna go home."

"Why not Cameron?" The boy's eyes were still focused on Abigail's face.

"I wanna stay wif her."

Phoebe looked back and forth between the two, completely confused as she saw Abigail nodding her head. Tears were still streaming down the girl's cheeks but she didn't seem to be bothered by Cameron's words.

"What?" Phoebe asked again, unable to understand the two's sudden liking for each other. She had been almost certain that something was wrong between the two of them with the way they'd been acting.

Cameron looked at Phoebe for a only a second before his gaze returned to Abigail once more. "She made evewything pwetty."

It was when Abigail was leaving with her mother that something finally clicked for Phoebe. Cameron had left earlier, crying the entire way as he reached for Abigail, who looked equally upset about being away from the boy. It didn't make sense to Phoebe, the two had only just met. Abigail managed to calm down a bit when her mother finally came to pick her up, resting her head on her mother's shoulder as she played with the necklace hanging around her neck.

"Mummy, what is this?"

"A necklace baby," the woman spoke as she signed Abigail out of the day care.

"No mummy, what _is_ this?"

"It's a ruby."

"It's pwetty."

"Yes baby."

Phoebe spoke without even thinking about it, "My mother loved rubies too Abby, red was her favorite color." She smiled at the small girl, her grin only faltering when she noticed the mother's scowl. She wasn't supposed to talk about colors anymore, it would only make the children upset that they couldn't see them.

"Wed." Abigail toyed with the tiny gem. "Wed wike yow shoes." She pointed at her mother's feet that were shoved in red heels.

"Yes baby," Abigail's mother answered, brushing the comment off before suddenly freezing. Her mouth hung open as she looked from Abigail, to Phoebe, and then back to Abigail again.

"Abby, what color is that apple there?" Her mother pointed to a picture on the wall. Abigail looked at the picture and grinned widely.

"It's wed mummy."

\---

Phoebe reported the incident that night to the local medical facility. She was asked dozens of questions by various employees of the research facility before she was finally asked to give the names and contact information of Abigail and Cameron's parents.

There was a news report about it the next day.

 _" **Two children at a local daycare center meet for first time, worlds change forever** " _(The headline was a bit too long and dramatic for Phoebe's liking, but that didn't stop her from reading the article). _"Abigail Todd and Cameron Conchola have been unable to see color since the day they were born. The two three year olds were no different from the rest of their generation until yesterday morning when the pair met for the first time at East Valley Daycare. Daycare teacher Phoebe Steiner described their breakdowns upon seeing each other for the first time. She was one of the first to finally realize that the source of their distress was their confusion at seeing the world in color for the first time. Researchers at the local university will be observing the two children for the next few weeks as they try to find what elicited the sudden change."_

The scientists at the university never did find out what caused the change. They ran tests on both children for weeks before finally giving up their efforts. It wasn't long before more stories like Abigail's and Cameron's began popping up all over the world. Children meeting each other for the first time and having their black and white worlds suddenly burst into color. The world's top scientists were baffled, unable to come up with an explanation as to why this would be the case. It didn't help that the situation didn't seem to be changing. Babies were continuing to be born without the ability to see color and there was no way to fix the problem. So parents continued to adjust. They let their kids live their lives in black and white and hoped that by some miracle, they'd end up meeting someone that would make their world burst into color.

_**January 2011** _

New Year's came and went and 2011 was turning out to be just as black and white for Calum as 2010 had been.

Calum is not an anomaly. There are plenty of kids his age who still can't see color. Most kids actually. The world was still unsure about what triggered the sudden burst of color, although it had its theories. The most popular one being the soulmate theory.

The rumor was that a teenage girl from Omaha, Nebraska was the originator of the theory. She'd been ranting about it one evening to her dad, who also happened to be a journalist for the local paper, and he'd taken her idea and run with it.

The soulmate theory suggested that the children who were born seeing only black and white would be able to see in color only after seeing their soulmate for the first time. The theory had been ridiculed at first, but there were a few people who thought that the girl from Omaha might be onto something. (Phoebe had been one of those few. She'd watched Abigail and Cameron learn to love each other as the years passed. They were still together now, almost fifteen years later.) The theory got its first real consideration in 2005, when the kids who had already gotten their colors started speaking up, talking about the undeniable connection they had with their, for lack of a better word, _soulmate_.

The reason behind the sudden black and white baby boom was still a mystery. Now in secondary school, Calum had heard his fair share of theories from various science teachers. This year the almost-fifteen year old had gotten the evolution explanation. This one was a favorite among soulmate theorists. They had this idea that with the growing population and the growing divorce rate, the human body had evolved to somehow find it's perfect match in a world full of people. The term "emotional evolution" had grown increasingly popular as the years passed. Like, somehow this was the body's way of protecting itself from heartbreak, by narrowing down the options to the one person that would always be on your side, because they were meant to be. Destined to be.

Calum wasn't sure if he bought it. He felt like most of the time the universe was against him, so why would it suddenly turn around and help his body find the one person that he was meant to be with? And didn't evolution work a lot slower than that? The galapagos finches hadn't developed their sharp beaks in a day. It'd taken several generations for their bodies to adapt to their surroundings. But in this case, the change occurred in a second. Literally. The babies born before January 1st, 1994 (all the way up to 23:59 on December 31, 1993) could see in color. The babies born after 00:00 on January 1st, 1994 could only see in grayscale. Evolution didn't work like that.

Calum didn't spend too much time thinking about why he couldn't see in color or how it all worked. He didn't waste his time worrying about whether or not this person that would make him see color would actually be his soulmate. He mostly just worried about football. And school. And Michael and Luke. And sometimes his family. He didn't have an aching desire to see in color. So far his grey life had turned out fine.

(One time he'd expressed his indifference over not seeing color to an aunt at a family reunion. She'd nearly lost her mind trying to describe to Calum what he was missing. But Calum, having never experienced seeing red or understood the phrase "feeling blue" just shrugged at his aunt, who just about had an aneurysm. Calum didn't get it. It was like she wanted him to be devastated over something he couldn't have. Calum didn't see the point in that.)

Now, just a few days away from his birthday, Calum was lying on his bed plucking at an acoustic guitar while his best friend Michael played his old GameCube in the opposite corner of the room.

"Fuck," Michael muttered as he pushed furiously at the buttons. Calum grinned at the sound. He was comfortable like this, he didn't need to see in color to be able to enjoy little moments like these.

"Angela told me she sees it now," Michael spoke as he continued to button mash. Calum hummed in response. Michael kept talking.

"She said it's unbelievable. Didn't know what she was missing. And she's going out with the guy she saw that triggered it."

"Good for her," Calum's voice was flat as he spoke. He didn't really care about Angela and the state of her vision, or her relationship. He didn't really want to be talking about this at all. The color conversation was so overdone. But Michael was still talking, and Calum was a good enough friend to let him get whatever was on his chest off of it so he could concentrate on his game again.

"I just," Michael sighed, "Where the fuck is my soulmate?"

Calum scoffed, "No one actually knows if it's a legit soulmate thing or not Mike."

"It looks a lot like it Cal."

"What website have you been looking at this time?"

"Reddit."

"Dammit Mike."

"Shut up, I'm talking about my loneliness right now, let me rant," Michael grumbled before jamming his thumb into the controller, cursing under his breath afterwards. "I don't even care about seeing in color, it'd just be nice to meet the girl."

"Or guy."

"I'm straight as fuck," Michael glared at Calum. Cal giggled.

"Uh huh."

"Shut up."

_**November 2013** _

Amy dragged her feet as she walked to class. School sucked. With her headphones jammed in her ears and her hood pulled up over her head she tried not to think about how horribly she'd just done on her Calculus quiz.

She was forced to stop walking when she felt a sudden tug on the back of her sweatshirt. Amy turned around to see her best friend gasping for breath, a huge smile taking over her face. Amy took out her headphones and gently pried her friend's fingers from her sweatshirt.

"Yes Kami?"

"It happened." Kami all but yelled into Amy's ear. Amy winced.

"What happened?"

"I met _him._ "

Amy's eyes widened, "Oh shit."

"Yeah."

"Who is it?"

"A guy who just transferred here from Calvary. His name's Jeff." Kami was bouncing on her toes and about to dive into the story when the warning bell rang. Amy groaned,

"I have to go to Enviro, but you're telling me all about it during lunch."

"I will," Kami literally could not stop smiling, and while Amy was happy for her, she was also a little jealous. What she wouldn't give to see in color. Just as Amy was turning around Kami grabbed her arm to pull her back once more.

"Kami, I have to go."

"Your eyes are blue, your soulmate is going to love them," Kami smiled and Amy could feel her cheeks heating up as she rolled her eyes and pulled her arm from Kami's grasp.

"Bye dork," she called over her shoulder while Kami just laughed and skipped (literally skipped) to her next class. Amy chuckled and ducked into her classroom, sliding into her seat just as the final bell rang.

The class was practicing FRQ's that day, which was irritating difficult, but Amy was glad of it. She didn't want to think about Kami's new situation anymore. She was overcome with jealousy that her best friend had gotten her colors, and as a result eaten up with guilt for not being happier for her best friend.

Amy doodled across the top of her practice FRQ, wishing that the day was over so she could just go home and avoid thinking about Kami any longer. She carefully shaded the small rocket ship she'd drawn flying across the page.

Amy had never been upset that she only saw in black and white before she started taking her art seriously. As a kid it hadn't bothered her, and she'd barely thought about it until her freshman year of high school when she'd taken her first art class and realized that it was something she loved. There were some students in the class that had already gotten their colors, and at age fourteen she'd watched enviously as they got to use the boxes full of colored markers, pencils, and paints that were completely useless to her. Her own pieces of art were limited in scope because she could only see grey. Now in her third year of art, her teacher never failed to remind her how she was handicapped because she was colorblind.

It wasn't that it was completely impossible to do art without the use of color, it just made it more difficult. Amy couldn't grasp the concept of the color blue, or any of the other colors for that matter. So when her art teacher told her to draw a red apple, she didn't completely understand what she had made even after it was finished. She could do it if one of the lucky color-seeing students helped her by handing her the shades of red she needed, but what did it matter when she couldn't understand it, or see it for what it was?

Amy could care less about finding her soulmate (if that's even what they were, the world was still unsure). What she really wanted was her colors.

_**July 2014** _

"Happy Birthday Ashton!" Calum shouted as he fell on top of his best friend. Ashton let out a groan beneath him as Michael joined the dogpile while Luke set a cake with burning candles down on the table next to them. Ashton took one look at the cake and immediately started shouting,

"Get off, the wax is melting! The wax is melting! Get the fuck off of me, the wax is _melting_!"

Calum and Michael rolled off of Ashton while the boy quickly scrambled from the couch so that he could kneel in front of the cake. He closed his eyes and a took a deep breath before blowing out all of the candles in one go.

The boys all congratulated him, Luke passing forks around as the four of them began to dig into the cake. Calum was fighting Luke for one particular bite (not because he really wanted it, but just to piss Luke off) when Michael asked,

"So birthday boy, what'd you wish for?"

Ashton spoke around the bite of cake in his mouth, "I can't tell you, idiot."

"Why not? It's not like we don't know already." Michael rolled his eyes.

"No you don't," Ashton protested indignantly, "I am a very complex and subversive human being, you can't pretend to know what _I_ wished for for _my_ birthday."

"Okay one," Luke said, "no one knows what the fuck _subversive_ even means, including you, so..."

Ashton scoffed.

"And two," Luke continued, "you wished to meet your soulmate."

Ashton scowled at Luke. Calum and Michael laughed while the youngest sat there looking smug.

"You know my name, not my story," Ashton growled and that was enough to let the other boys know that Luke was exactly right. They were still laughing as Ashton muttered under his breath, "Fucking idiots, all of you."

"At least we're not a bunch of lovesick saps." Michael teased and Ashton groaned.

"It's my birthday!" He shouted and the other boys laughed but let the subject go. Calum smiled at the disgruntled look on Ashton's face as he dug into the cake once more.

Calum had known Ashton for a little over three years now, and during that entire time Ashton had never given up hope on meeting _the one_. Calum still thought it was all kind of bullshit, but he was too good of a friend to voice those opinions. So when Ashton ranted and complained about the fact that he _still_ couldn't see in color, Calum just let him, and sometimes gave him a hug afterwards if Ashton was especially sad.

Cal didn't just do that for Ashton either. He'd taken care of a very lonely and drunk Michael who was crying because "everything is just so grey Cally" more times than either of them would like to admit, and cuddled a sad, loveless Luke just as many times, if not more.

Calum's friends were all messes. And Calum was there for them. He couldn't completely deny the things they were saying; he could feel that mysterious pull, the emptiness. He knew there was a blank space in his life that was aching to be filled. He didn't care much for the idea that it _had_ to be filled by this one person in particular that the universe had assigned him. He wasn't completely against the idea (because what if he found that person and they actually _were_ everything that he'd rejected for the last 18 years) but he wasn't entirely for it either. The whole situation seemed a little fucked up to say the least.

Of course, Calum's skepticism of the system was a very unpopular opinion by now. Just the summer before the scientific community had a released a statement stating that the "soulmate theory" was now the most widely accepted theory not just among the general public, but among the world's top researchers as well. The statistics didn't lie: 99.9% of the individuals who had found someone that had given their world color had pursued a relationships with that person. The world's top therapists and psychologists specializing in relationship had done thousands of interviews with these color-coordinated couples and found them to be "compatible on almost every level" and "demonstrating all the qualities of a relationship so healthy, it could be referred to as almost perfect". It seemed that the entire world agreed that the correlation between color and love was undeniable.

Even with all the evidence pointing towards the idea that somewhere out there, Calum would finally meet someone that would make his world burst into color, he was still skeptical.

The boys were completely stuffed with cake by the time there was only a third of it left, and they abandoned the pastry to go back to their usual activities. The four of them sat around the room scrolling through their phones while the clock ticked quietly in the background. Calum was on twitter, looking at the black and white layout (Mali told him it was blue, he didn't know what that meant) when he saw it.

Jen, one of his friends from home had gotten their colors. Calum scrolled through her feed curiously before finally going to his DM's and messaging her.

_Hey Jen, congrats on getting your colors!_

Only moments later she replied.

**Calum! It's been so long! Thanks so much :)**

_No problem. So. What's it like?_

**The colors or the soulmate?**

Calum typed out his message three times before finally deciding to cut right to the chase.

_Is he actually your soulmate?_

**Yes.**

_How do you know?_

_Besides the whole sudden burst of color thing._

**It's hard to explain.**

_:( Could you try?_

Calum winced internally at how whiny he sounded. But he was curious about the whole thing. He really wanted to know, was there any truth at all in this stupid soulmate theory?

**Alright but promise not to laugh.**

_I promise._

**K. Here we go.**

Calum had to wait a few minutes before Jen finally responded. He read her messages, one after the other, and wondered if maybe the soulmate theory wasn't as bullshit as he'd made it out to be.

**As soon as I saw Brad I didn't just see color (which was awesome btw) I saw, or felt or something, idk, something else too. It was like I'd been missing something and I'd finally found it.**

**That sounds so dumb, but I don't know how else to describe it.**

**I just didn't know I was missing something that big until Brad was there and I was there and I immediately knew that he was going to be someone really important in my life.**

_Do you love him?_

**I'm not sure. It's complicated.**

**I feel kinda awkward, like it's too early to say, but I wanna say I love him.**

**All I know for sure is that Brad and I just fit. If we don't end up together we'll at least be best friends, because now that I know him I can't picture living life without him.**

_Shit._

**I know.**

**Hey, I gotta go to work, but message me if you wanna talk more about it, k?**

_Okay. Say hi to Brad for me._

**Will do.**

Calum locked his phone and tossed it to the side. He wasn't sure how to feel about this whole soulmate thing anymore. From what Jen had told him it sounded actually kind of amazing. Calum was suddenly very aware of the ache in his chest, the empty loneliness that was always present. He was usually pretty good at ignoring it, but now he was having trouble pretending that the sadness at the back of his mind wasn't there.

Calum blew out a huff of air and watched as the dust floating in the air above him swirled.

_I know it's not my birthday, but I wish I'd find my colors soon._

_**May 2015** _

"I'm done bitches." Amy dropped her backpack on the kitchen floor as she entered the room. She was alone except for the two family dogs that were wagging their tails happily while Amy shuffled through the pantry.

It was the last day of school. Last day of senior year. Graduation was tomorrow night and then Amy never had to step foot in that stupid institution again. She had bigger and better things to worry about. Like college. And the fact that Amy really wanted to be an art major, if it weren't for one thing.

Since 1994, universities had implemented a new screening process for art majors. Every art major had to prove that he or she could see in color. They claimed that the art they were doing was too high a level for those who could only see in black and white, which Amy thought was fucking bullshit. Just thinking about it made her mad. Mad at the universities, mad at herself, mad at her supposed soul mate for not getting their act together and waltzing into her life so she could just finally see in color already.

If she didn't find her soulmate soon, Amy wasn't sure what she would do. She could finish her GE no problem, but if she didn't have her colors by the time she had to start taking classes for her art major, well, she'd be-

"Fuck!" A voice shouted from behind her. Amy whirled around and scowled at her little brother, Cobe, who had tripped over her backpack and was sitting on his ass trying to fend off the two very excited dogs that were jumping on top of him. "Why the hell did you leave your backpack in the middle of the floor?"

"I'm a free woman now," Amy exited the pantry and headed for the fridge, "I can do what I want. I'm an adult."

"You're seventeen."

"Close enough. I'm only a month away from being a super official adult."

"You're stupid."

Amy didn't say anything, just grabbed an apple from the fridge and took a bite.

"I wish mom would quit getting green apples, the red ones are better looking," Cobe spoke from the kitchen floor. Amy sighed,

"Does it really make a difference?"

Cobe's eyes softened as he slowly picked himself up from off the floor, "Sorry."

Amy sighed again, "It's fine."

"You know I'd give you my colors if I could, in a second."

"I know."

Cobe had met his one, Jasmine, only a few months ago. They worked at the same laser tag place. Cobe's first day on the job had been eventful. He'd gotten beaten by an overzealous kid wielding a laser gun, broken up an almost physical fight between two moms, and gotten his colors all in one day. That same day Amy had sat at home struggling to write an essay for Spanish until Cobe came home all smiles and talking about "how fucking blue the sky is Amy, just wait till you see it".

Amy was still jealous. And bitter. She was the basically the worst older sister ever.

The graduate picked her backpack up off the kitchen tile and headed upstairs, tossing the bag back down on the floor of her bedroom and picking up her ukulele. She strummed a few chords of a random song before her phone went off. She picked up the device (the case was supposed to be yellow, Amy's mom's favorite color) and slid her thumb across the text message from Kami.

**i got jeff hooked on my new band and now its ur turn, get ready loser**

Amy rolled her eyes.

This was nothing new. Kami was always finding new bands to add to her tumblr collection, and always trying to force them on Amy and Jeff.

Amy tapped the link Kami sent and set her phone aside, listening to audio as she tried to pick along with the tune on her ukulele. She texted Kami back after the song was done.

_Catchy. Well done kamilleon, you've got me hooked_

**YES**

**they're all so cute, if i didn't have jeff i'd be praying that one of them were my soulmate**

_I'm rolling my eyes._

**did you watch the video??**

_No_

**watch the fuycking video**

**rn**

**r u watching it?**

_No_

**WATCH IT**

Amy chuckled at her phone, she could practically hear Kami's frustrated huff through the text. She clicked on the link again, and instead of just listening to song she actually watched the boys on screen. Kami was right, they were cute. One of the boys in particular caught Amy's eye. She wasn't really prepared for the reaction she had when his face first popped up on the screen. Her stomach heaved, and she could swear it felt like the back of her eye itched. _What the fuck?_

**so?**

_They're pretty cute._

**who's your fave?**

_Idk it's been like two seconds, let me breath._

Kami didn't text Amy back after that, probably because she was either hanging out with Jeff or frustrated with Amy's attitude. Or both. Which Amy was fine with, because really, what the fuck, she almost felt like she was going to vomit after seeing the dark haired boy play his bass.

Amy was on board with the whole soulmate thing as long as she got what she wanted out of it, her colors. But now suddenly, sitting in her room with sweaty palms, itchy eyes, and the sudden urge to vomit, Amy was acutely aware of the ache in her chest, the loneliness that she was constantly pushing back and ignoring.

She suddenly couldn't avoid the fact that she had always felt like there was something missing. And it wasn't just her colors. Amy couldn't distract herself from her loneliness by being angry over her grey life. Her usual tactics weren't working.

Amy tucked her legs to her chest and folded her arms across herself. She'd heard the news only a month or two ago. It'd made headlines all across the world for weeks. Some students at the UC Davis medical facility in California had had a crazy stroke of luck. They'd put a boy in an MRI machine and one by one, had different volunteers enter the room only long enough for the test subject to be able to see them. The students had hoped that by some miracle one of those volunteers would end up being the boy's soul mate, and somehow within the first twenty volunteers, she had appeared. They'd been able to observe and record the boy's brain activity as he saw color for the first time. Along with a sudden burst of activity in the occipital lobe, the levels of oxytocin in the boy's brain skyrocketed. The results of the study were quickly turned over to the entire scientific community for study, and the world's top scientists all agreed. There was no denying the facts. That when an individual saw a certain someone for the first time, not only did they see color, but their brains immediately began making the chemical formula for love that left the pair with an undeniable attraction for each other. This physical and chemical attraction, paired with psychologists observation of the deep emotional and relational pull that color-triggered couples shared, confirmed what the world had been suspicious of for years now.

The children who saw the world in black and white were not a lost cause. They would see the world in color. They only had to lay their eyes on their soul mate for the first time.

Amy's brain wouldn't stop going in circles. Soulmates, color, college, the boy with the dark hair, the ache in her chest. Her mind wouldn't stop going. And so, Amy, the graduate, the free woman, spent her first afternoon of freedom curled up in a ball on her bed, crying for the first time in a long time because she was missing something she'd never had.

_**October 2015** _

"You know, I dye my hair all the time, but I have no fucking clue what it looks like," Michael spoke up from his corner of the dressing room. The boys were lounging around before a promo show. Calum was picking at his black fingernails. (Or at least, they were supposed to be black. The tech team had been teasing him earlier, trying to convince him that they were actually dark purple. Which, honestly Calum wouldn't even mind because what difference would it make anyway?)

"Why is this taking so damn long?" Ashton groaned and _shit, here we go again._

"I want my colors. And my soulmate. I wanna see how cool my hair looks. I bet it looks so fucking cool," Michael muttered, running a hand through his hair. Calum rolled his eyes.

"Would you guys shut up?" All eyes turned to Luke, who was rubbing a towel over his head aggressively. "Yeah, we're a bunch of sad, lonely guys. There's no need to wallow in it."

"You're such a hypocrite Luke-ass," Michael chided, "You literally complain all the time about how lonely you are."

Luke slumped his shoulders in defeat and collapsed next to Michael on the couch, "Whatever."

Calum sighed. This past year had been difficult for him. His loneliness was becoming harder to bear as time went on.

Cal couldn't help but think about how unfair it was. He literally travelled all across the globe, meeting new people every single day. You would think that at least _one_ of the dozens he met would be his one. It felt like the black and white surrounding him was constantly taunting him.

The other boys felt much the same. Ashton had been particularly bad lately. So bad, in fact, that he had started dating someone who hadn't given him colors. Luke was doing the same thing. There were days where it seemed to be working for the two of them, they seemed really happy with the people that weren't their soulmates. And then there were days like today, when the entire band would have a pity party together and it was clear that they all felt it. The void. They all knew, something was missing.

The quiet that had settled around the boys had grown so heavy, Calum found it hard to say anything. But he knew he say something. For his friends.

"One day we'll find our colors and it'll be fucking awesome. And I'll be the best man at _all_ of your weddings."

Calum knew it was the right thing to say as soon as it was out of his mouth. Immediately Michael lept up from the couch, shouting about how if anyone was gonna be Luke's best man it was gonna be him, and Ashton was groaning, insisting that "none of you are invited to my wedding, you're ruiners, all of you. You'll ruin it," and Luke was picking his fingernails saying that he was just going to elope anyway. Calum grinned and leaned his head back against the sofa to stare at the ceiling.

This wasn't so bad. With these three idiots by his side he could make it through this. Even if it ended up being that he didn't have a soulmate, didn't have his colors, Calum could make it through.

_**January 2016** _

It was four in the morning and Amy was standing in middle of the airport, hugging her crying mother while her brother made faces at her.

"It's alright mom, I'll be home soon." Amy said as her mother finally released her, her eyes glossy with tears.

"Make sure you call at least once a week. We didn't get you that international plan for nothing."

Amy smiled, "I will mom."

After making the rounds one last time, telling her brother to take care of her parents, and promising her dad to stay away from any and all boys (which, what Amy's dad didn't know wouldn't hurt him), Amy grabbed her carry on and headed for the security check. She was on her way to a flight from California to Switzerland.

After graduation Amy had been excited to go to college. Her campus was large and there were plenty of students that could potentially giver her her colors. But by the time she was halfway through the semester Amy had begun to lose hope. She'd taken enough AP classes during high school to skip an entire year of college, meaning that she only had a few GE courses left to complete before she would have to start working on her art major. Which would've been great, except Amy _still_ didn't have her colors.

She had taken some other classes that she might be interested in. An English class, an Environmental Science class, all in the hopes that maybe she would find something that she liked better than art, something she could major in that didn't require color. But unfortunately all that did was cost Amy and extra $200 in textbooks and reaffirm her previous decision that yes, she did in fact want to major in art.

So now with no GE courses left to take and a bank account full of cash she'd been saving since she was fourteen, Amy was on her way to Europe to see the world. She'd always wanted to wait until she got her colors to travel so she could see the world, color and all, but that idea had gone out the window once she realized that she just needed to escape. Needed to be anywhere but home where she was surrounded by people who had already found their soulmates.

She needed an adventure, and she was determined find one.

The flight from California to Geneva was long and terrible and the air hostess spilled orange juice on Amy's sleeve halfway through the entire ordeal, but it was fine because Amy was going somewhere.

As soon as she arrived she got lost on the journey from the airport to the city (which wasn't actually that difficult to navigate, it was mostly the jet lag and the lack of sleep that was making everything ten times harder). But after getting directions from a nice man on the tram, she was finally able to find the hostel she was staying in. She immediately dumped her stuff on her bunk, curled up in a ball next to it, and slept. She knew that later she would regret falling asleep at six in the morning, but she didn't care, she was so tired.

She was woken up only two hours later by one of the hostel workers, telling her that she couldn't be in the facility during daytime hours. So running on a couple hours of sleep and a bad cup of coffee, Amy wandered around Geneva, looking at the Alps in the distance from the city streets, and letting the chill from the lake wash over her as she watched the water reflect the pale winter sun.

That night she watched as the sun set, and wondered what the grey streaks looked like in all their glory. She looked at the people around her, hoping that by some miracle her soulmate would happen to walk by and grant her the ability to see the beauty in front of her, but she was left disappointed. By seven o'clock the sun was down and Amy was on the tram heading back towards the hostel, so tired she thought she might just fall asleep where she was standing, and so lonely that by the time she fell into her bunk at her hostel, the ache in her chest felt almost normal.

_**May 2016** _

"We're here!" Ashton shouted as the bus rolled to a stop. Calum looked up from his phone and out the window. Ashton was already pawing through his stuff, searching for his wallet.

"I'm gonna get the biggest beer money can buy," he said to no one in particular. But the rest of the boys answered anyway, humming in agreement.

"Ash, my wallet is buried somewhere, will you pay for me?" Luke yelled from his bunk. Ashton grunted in response, which everyone knew meant "yes". Luke grinned, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and grabbing his sunglasses before heading for the exit of the bus. Ashton followed quickly after him, jacket in hand, sunglasses already perched on his nose.

"Your dimples are unusually deep today," Michael said as he looked up at Ashton from his place on the couch. He didn't look like he was moving anytime soon.

"It's cause I'm excited about the beer. I love Munich!" Ashton shouted as he exited the bus, pumping both fists into the air. Calum chuckled and grabbed his rain jacket from his bunk before heading out to follow him.

"Sure you don't want to come along?" He asked, pausing next to the stairs. Michael didn't even look up from his phone.

"Nope, didn't sleep last night, gonna try to nap. Have a pint for me."

"Will do," Calum smiled at Michael before hopping out of the bus. The door closed behind him and Calum had to jog to catch up with Ashton and Luke, who were already heading towards the van.

Thirty minutes and many pictures later, Calum, Ashton, and Luke were sitting at a picnic table, giant beers in hand (one in each hand in Calum's case, he was serious when he said he'd drink one for Michael). Cal and Ash had their hoods up while Luke whined about the cold.

"You're the one who was an idiot and didn't think about the fact that we're in Germany now, not Italy, dicktard." Ashton grumbled and Calum burst out laughing.

"Dicktard?"

"Dicktard."

"You guys both suck." Luke huffed before taking a giant gulp of his drink. Ashton was quick to follow suit with Calum right behind him. It was quiet for a second as the three of them enjoyed their drinks and watched the water rippling next to them.

"We should have brought bread for the ducks," Ashton muttered, and Calum was laughing again, this time with Luke. And for the first time in a long time Calum had forgotten about the entire colors situation. He wasn't thinking about soulmates or loneliness or his black and white world.

Two tables away, a girl plopped down at a picnic table and pulled a sketchbook and pencil out of her backpack. Her eyes were trained on the water in front of her as she started sketching an outline of the scenery, occasionally taking a break to sip at the pint resting on the table next to her. Calum didn't notice her, he couldn't have, his back was turned and his hood was up. He was still laughing at Ashton when Luke asked him to top off his drink. So, giant glass in hand, Calum stood from the table, ready to make off towards the pub when Luke leaned slightly to the right, his eyes falling on the sketching girl just two tables away.

"She's cute," he sighed, clearly disappointed that he still saw in black and white. Ashton turned around and lowered his sunglasses to look, before turning back around and shrugging his shoulders in agreement. Calum was the last to look as he finished draining one of his own glasses so he could return it to the pub. When he finally turned around to look his grip on both glasses loosened and they fell to the ground, Luke's quarter-full pint emptying completely onto the gravel around their feet, Calum's empty glass landing with a soft chink. Calum's mouth dropped open and he nearly tore his sunglasses from his face as he looked around frantically.

The grey trees around him exploded into a symphony of green. And _shit,_ that's _green._ That's what it's looked like this entire time. And these trees are the most fucking beautiful trees Calum's ever seen. And the water is rippling, making that dark green explode and move and dance with the blue and now Calum's looking up because holy shit, the _sky_. It was a cloudy day, but Calum was lucky enough to see through the patches in the clouds and see just how _blue_ it was. And the picnic table that he thought was grey is something warmer, brighter than that. He's not even sure what color this table is supposed to be, he can't put a name to it, but it's beautiful because he's never seen color like this before. Never seen _color_ before.

And then he's looking at her and holy shit, _Jen was right_.

She looks like home. Calum doesn't know how it's possible, he doesn't even know her name. But he knows that the ache in his chest has only gotten more intense as the seconds have gone by and he's stayed next to this stupid picnic table with his lame friends instead of walking over to that girl who gave him his color, who's his _soulmate_.

And then Calum is running. Ashton and Luke are shouting but he doesn't care. Calum doesn't care about anything as he jumps on top of this picnic table, over to the next and then down to the ground and the girl still hasn't looked up yet but he's running around to her side of the bench and by the time she looks up at him and gasps," _you_ ," he's sinking to his knees in front of her and his hands are gripping the bench on either side of her hips and his heart pounding in his chest and his lungs are heaving and _holy shit her eyes are so beautiful._

"Hi," Calum breathes out and the girl is shaking uncontrollably. Ashton and Luke are completely confused and still trying to get his attention but Calum can't be bothered because _she_ is right here in front of him, _finally_.

"Hi," she speaks and her voice _sounds_ like home too. Calum is smiling uncontrollably and so is she. She's still shaking, looks a little overwhelmed which is fine, because Calum probably looks a little overwhelmed too. It's completely understandable, the whole situation is a little overwhelming to say the least.

The girl is looking at her surroundings, eyes darting around frantically, but they're always landing back on Calum, and Calum thinks that maybe she gets it. Maybe he feels like home for her too.

When she finally looks up at the sky she laughs. Calum's stomach flips at the sound and he laughs too. She looks back down at him and her smile is so bright Calum thinks she might actually be glowing.

"So _that's_ blue."

"Yep," Calum grins, "that's blue."

She looks up again, "It's beautiful."

"Your eyes are blue too you know. They're beautiful." Calum says it all in a rush and then he's blushing and she's looking back at him and laughing. Her hand isn't shaking so much anymore as she runs a thumb over his rosy cheeks.

"So that's pink," she teases him and Calum's cheeks grow even hotter. He's still kneeling on the ground in front of her, gazing up at her like she put the stars in the sky, when really all she did was give him his color.

"My name's Amy," she tells him, letting her thumb drop from his cheek and Calum kind of wishes she hadn't done that.

"Mine's Calum."

"Calum," Amy says it experimentally, like she's tasting it for the first time. She must decide she likes it because she smiles afterwards and tells him so, "I like it."

There's so much more they have to say to each other. She sounds American and they're in Germany, and Calum is in the middle of a world tour and he doesn't know what he's going to do, what they're going to do, and he doesn't even know for sure if she wants him but he thinks she might by the way she's looking at him. There's so much they have to talk about but they can't seem to say anything, can't seem to do anything besides stare at each other.

"Calum, what the fuck is going on?" Luke shouts as he walks over, a very grumpy looking Ashton behind him. Calum turns his head from Amy to look at them for the first time and jumps a little because _oh yeah, Luke and Ashton are in color too._

"Uh," Calum starts and Amy is still looking at him, can't seem to look away, "Amy, this is Luke and Ashton. Luke and Ashton, this is Amy," Calum looks at her, "She gave me my color."

"No. Fucking. Way." Luke's mouth has dropped open and Ashton looks like he might start crying, or laughing, Calum can't really tell.

"Yeah fucking way," Amy answers and Calum's smile is so big it's embarrassing.

"Holy shit," Calum whispers, "it's all for real." His arms are still braced on either side of Amy. She looks down at his hands, sees his tattoos and it's not even weird that she's grabbed his right hand and traced her fingers across the initials inked there.

"Yeah," she whispers, rubbing her thumb across Calum's knuckles and he shivers.

" _Soulmates._ "


	2. luke

_**May 16, 2016** _

John had been to 31 shows of the Sounds Live Feels Live tour, all 69 shows of the Rock Out With Your Socks Out tour, and countless other promo shows in between tours in the past two years alone. He'd heard the same songs, the same jokes, the same teasing insults; seen the same flashing lights, the same graphics, the same show more times than he could count. He'd watched all four boys make fools of themselves almost everyday for years now. John loved his job, but after seeing the same concert night after night for so long, he wasn't as entertained by their antics as he used to be.

That is, until the 32nd show of the Sounds Live Feels Live tour.

John watched in complete fascination as Calum practically lost his shit on stage. As both their tour manager and front man, John was one of the first to hear the news.

_"Calum got his colors and he can't stop staring at everything. Yeah. It's a thing."_

Luke's voice had been a mixture of irritation and pride as he'd called John from the tour bus. John could hear Calum yelling in the background throughout the call ( _"what the fuck kind of color is this?" "Michael I just googled all of your past hair styles, it looks great buddy" "stop staring at her, you'll scare her!"_ ).

"Wait, her?"

"Yeah John, that's how it works. Remember? You see your soulmate, you get your colors."

"So it's actually true?"

"Yep. I'm literally witnessing it right now. It's making me sick."

Now several hours later, it was clear to John that Calum was almost painfully affected by the new addition of color to his life. Maybe throwing him into a multicolored light show just hours after finding his soulmate wasn't such a good idea.

Calum stumbled through the show. He didn't miss a single note, vocally or on the bass guitar, but whenever it was his turn to speak to the crowd he lost his train of thought, or got distracted by the changing lights, or stuttered his way through his sentences. When there wasn't music to be lost in, Calum was lost in the world around him. John could tell that he was overwhelmed from his place in the soundbooth, he didn't want to think about what the fans in the front row were thinking.

(Later that night theories would surface online surrounding Calum's unusual behavior. Most fans attributed it to sickness, some to drunkenness, and others insisted that not just Calum, but all the boys were overworked. Dozens of theories would be suggested, but none of them would manage to pinpoint the actual cause of Calum's distress.)

John made his way backstage sometime during the encore. He was waiting in the dressing room next to catering when the boys burst in, covered in sweat and high on adrenaline. John let Ashton, Michael, and Luke grab their beers and collapse onto the couches before walking over to Calum and patting him on the back.

"You okay?"

Calum shot him a weak smile, running a hand through his hair as he spoke, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little overwhelmed."

"You look like it."

"Yeah well." Calum didn't say anything else, just sighed and moved to sit with the other boys. John let him go. He knew Calum must be feeling a lot of different things at the moment. He just left the room, sending a text to Cal as he walked down the hallway towards where the rest of the crew was cleaning up.

**I'm here to talk if you need it kid.**

A few minutes later as he was watching the crew pack away monitors he got a text back.

_Thanks John._

John pocketed his phone and went back to watching the crew, chatting with a couple of the guys. He pushed Calum's situation to the back of his mind, they had another show tomorrow to worry about. Calum's colors could wait.

In the meantime Calum was stripping in the middle of the dressing room, using his dirty shirt to wipe the sweat off his body while the rest of the boys shouted at him ("dammit Calum, you could've warned us," "that shirt is not sanitary," "oh, real classy Cal"). He was quick to don a new pair of jeans and a shirt before spraying his entire body with deodorant and guzzling down a bottle of water. He had his phone in one hand and was struggling to slip his shoes on with the other as he told the boys,

"I'm taking an Uber to Amy's, don't wait up."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Ashton asked, "We're leaving at one."

Calum looked at the time. _23:40_. He'd at least have an hour to try and get this whole thing figured out. He nodded at Ashton.

"I've gotta go."

"Okay. Watch the time."

"I will, _dad_."

Ashton narrowed his eyes at Calum but didn't say anything. Calum just smiled back and grabbed his jacket and wallet before leaving the room. (Meanwhile Michael took the opportunity to start moaning " _daddy_ " and other profanities as obnoxiously as possible in Ashton's direction. Luke thought it was funny. Ashton didn't.)

Calum walked quickly towards the back of the venue. This wasn't the greatest time for him to be out in the open without security, but he didn't have a choice at this point.

When he had finally managed to find the Uber and avoid any confrontations with the few fans still straggling about, he pulled out his phone and pulled up the messaging app.

_On my way now._

**Cool, I'll be waiting outside.**

_Sounds good, see you soon._

Calum leaned his head against the window and watched the lights flash by. Even the night had it's own set of colors. Cal didn't think he'd ever get used to this.

A few minutes later and the car was pulling up in front of a small hostel. Calum thanked the driver before ducking out of the car and walking towards the tired looking building. Amy was standing just outside the door, her arms tucked around herself in an effort to keep the cold night air at bay. Judging by her chattering teeth and shivering frame, it wasn't working so well. Cal couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling stupidly fond of the girl he'd only met hours before.

Calum shoved both hands into his front pockets as he walked towards her, "Hey."

She smiled around her chattering teeth, "Hi."

"You cold?"

Amy almost laughed, "How could you tell?"

Calum did laugh, "Wanna head inside?"

"Yes please," she quickly turned around and fumbled with the door, eventually managing to slide her keycard through the slot next to the handle before pushing it open. Calum followed her into the small building and the two made their way to a common room/sitting area with a little kitchen just off to the side.

"Want anything? I have tea and hot chocolate in my pack."

"I'm okay." Calum smiled and sat down as Amy gestured toward one of the shabby chairs sitting around an old table. He looked around the room and smiled, "This is a nice place you got here."

Amy chuckled as she sat down next to him, looking around the room as well, "Thanks, I take a lot of pride in my decorating skills."

"I can tell," Calum gestured towards the mismatched sofas that were bursting at the seams and shoved carelessly against the wall. Amy chuckled once more before the quiet settled over the two of them. Calum stretched his arms out in front of him before resting one of them on the back of Amy's chair. Even in the low light of the common room, he could see the blush that spread across her cheeks.

"So," he spoke up, breaking the silence, "What are we going to do?"

Amy sighed, "I have no fucking idea."

Calum sighed too, "I leave for Paris tonight."

Amy frowned, "I'm not sure where I'm headed next."

"How long are you going to be in Europe?"

"Well," Amy relaxed back in her chair so that Calum's arm draped across part of her shoulders, "I'm running out of money. I was going to check out one more city before heading home."

"Which city?"

"I was thinking either London or Amsterdam."

Calum raised his eyebrows, "I think we've got shows coming up in Amsterdam."

Amy smiled a little before her face fell again, "So we meet up in Amsterdam and then what? I fly back home, go back to my normal life, and you keep touring the world?" She took a shaky breath, "How is this going to work, Cal?"

Calum scooted his chair closer to her and properly wrapped his arm around her shoulders, a small frown on his face, "I'm not sure babe. I don't think it's going to be easy."

Amy ran a hand over her face and let herself fall into Calum's side,"Ugh."

"Yep."

It was quiet for a moment longer before Calum spoke again, "Where is home for you, anyway?"

"California. My parents live in Nor-Cal, but I'm going to school down south."

"So you're a student then."

"Yeah," Amy chuckled humorlessly, "Shit, we don't know anything about each other."

"Nope."

"How long do we have to figure all this out?"

Calum checked the time, "About thirty minutes."

Amy laughed again, "This is not ideal."

Calum couldn't help but smile, "No, it's not. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I don't regret it at all. Meeting you I mean. I don't think you could've come sooner."

Amy smiled, "I feel the same way."

"So you're not completely over this?"

"Absolutely not. You're my soulmate. I'm in this for the long haul."

Calum smiled and rubbed his thumb across the skin of Amy's shoulder. "We're going to figure this out."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, "Yeah."

"We're going to be okay."

She smiled, "I know."

\---

Back at the arena, Ashton, Michael, and Luke were still sitting at the couches, working on another round of beers and tinkering with their phones. There was a tension in the air that hadn't been there in years- since the boys first met each other.

"Okay, what the fuck," Luke spoke up. He didn't say anything else, but the other boys nodded in agreement.

"I'm just gonna throw this out there," Ashton said, and all eyes were on him, "I am jealous of Calum. I am also lonely." He didn't say anything else, but the other boys nodded in agreement.

"Do you think they're fucking right now?" Michael asked and Luke yelled.

"Why?" Ashton asked, blinking slowly, "Why would you ask that now? I'm trying to have a heart to heart and you ask  _that_."

Michael shrugged, "I was just wondering." Luke snorted.

The boys went back to scrolling through their phones and quietly sipping their beers. The tension had dissipated somewhat, but there was still an air of uncomfortability around the three.

Luke was texting his girlfriend. He hadn't told her about Calum's most recent development. Calum hadn't even told his parents yet, so Luke figured he'd wait till the topic was a little more approachable. That didn't stop his girlfriend from picking up on the fact that something was clearly wrong with Luke's behavior, even over text.

**what's wrong bb?**

_Nothing, just tired._

**aw, you should go back to your bunk, call me**

_Not tonight. I think I'm just gonna go to sleep._

She didn't respond after that. Luke knew that she was probably angry with him, he didn't really care.

For a while there Luke thought that maybe the whole soulmate thing might actually be bullshit. He was happy with his job, his friends, and his girlfriend. If he could be this happy without his soulmate, without seeing color, then maybe it wasn't as big a deal as everybody made it out to be.

Of course there were days when Luke wasn't so happy, when he felt the mysterious pull in his chest that reminded him that there was something more than this. But Luke had organized his life so that now, whenever he felt that ache, he could chalk it up to missing his girlfriend or his mom instead of missing something more. 

He'd been fine this morning. A little lonely when he first woke up, but he was able to hide that behind his friends, his career. But then Calum met her.

She ruined everything.

After witnessing Calum and Amy meet for the first time, Luke knew there was no denying the truth. His girlfriend was not his soulmate, and this ache in his chest was not going away. He was stuck with it until he found the person who gave him his colors.

"Shit," Ashton muttered under his breath, "John just texted, we're leaving in ten. Where the hell is Cal?"

"He's on his way back," Michael answered. Ashton looked quizzically at him. Michael shrugged, "I just asked him if they fucked and he told me he was on his way here," he smirked, "Which wasn't a no."

"Why," Ashton ran a hand over his face, "why are you like this?"

Michael just kept on smirking and ignored Ashton, going back to playing on his phone. Luke snorted and tossed his own phone aside, leaning his head back against the sofa. He still felt shitty, but at least he had Michael and Ashton, who were equally as lonely and sad as him. Even though Michael didn't show it, Luke knew his heightened levels of sass and crude humor were a defense mechanism against his own sadness. (And no, Luke wasn't Michael's therapist, he was just his best friend. He'd seen shit over the years. He knew that Michael felt just as shitty as he did. So he didn't even think twice about scooting closer to him and curling up into a ball against his side. And Michael being Michael, didn't even think twice about slinging an arm around Luke's shoulder.)

"Fuck love," Luke said.

"Yep," said Michael. Ashton shouted out an "amen" and that was the end of that.

_**June 2016** _

"Yeah... I know. I miss you too. I love you." Calum hung up the phone and Luke buried himself deeper into his sweatshirt.

Fuck love.

Calum groaned as he pocketed his phone and ran a hand over his face. Luke sighed. This was a new thing for them. Most of the time Luke was the one feeling lovesick and lonely in his completely soulmate-less state and Cal was stuck comforting him. But since Calum met Amy it was as if the roles had been reversed. Luke found himself consoling a lonely Calum more often than he talked to his own girlfriend. And Luke was getting sick of it.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this," Calum sighed. Luke rolled his eyes. They'd had this conversation dozens of times in the past month. Cal was in the middle of a tour, Amy was back home taking summer classes to catch up on her art major, and they were both too in love to break up. So they were stuck in a long distance relationship (that honestly shouldn't have been working due to how new the relationship was, but hey, they were soulmates). Cal hated it, but he hated the idea of being without Amy even more. So here they were, just waiting for the situation to change. There was nothing else that they could do. Calum knew it, Amy knew it, and Luke definitely knew it. He was the one who had to listen to Calum complain all the time about it.

"I know it sucks," Luke said, "but you have to get over it. There's nothing you can do. We've got a show tonight, you've gotta move on."

Calum narrowed his eyes at Luke and opened his mouth to retaliate ("you don't fucking understand, don't give me shit for feeling like this when you have no idea what it's like") when the door to the bus burst open and Michael and Ashton waltzed in.

"Look alive," Ashton threw a water bottle in Calum's direction. Cal diverted his attention from Luke to catch it. "Soundcheck in ten."

Another water bottle was chucked in Luke's direction, missing his head by inches. Luke scowled at Ashton, who shrugged apologetically. Michael just laughed before turning to leave the bus, Ash and Cal quick to follow. Luke took his time stretching out his legs before finally standing up from the couch, snatching the water bottle off the floor and following the other boys.

The tension between Calum and Luke was almost nonexistent after they'd both cooled off during the walk from the bus to the dressing room. And after some last minute fixing of hair and smoothing out of t shirts, the boys were back to their normal happy, tired, and a little bit lovesick selves as they stepped out on stage for soundcheck. Luke was secretly thankful to have a friend like Cal, someone he could always rely on to stay his friend, even if he was in a bitchy and lonely mood. (Luke was secretly thankful for Ashton and Michael too, but he was already feeling so sappy, he didn't need to admit to that too.) Calum was not-so-secretly thankful for Luke's friendship as he initiated a quick cuddle after soundcheck was over. (Luke was resistant at first, but gave in after a few more minutes of pestering.) Calum was more-secretly using Luke's cuddle as a substitute for Amy, who was thousands of miles away and currently unavailable. Cal wasn't about to tell Luke that though, he knew he'd been complaining about his love life more often than the blonde haired boy cared to hear. He knew he had to get his own feelings under control, it was just difficult. The soulmate thing was no joke.

That night the show went off without a hitch. Calum was used to the flashing, colored lights by now, and the world had long since forgotten his spaciness from the Munich show. They celebrated another successful night with cold beers and bratwursts before retiring back to the bus to head to the next city. Luke was lying in his bunk, staring at the ceiling when he heard Calum's voice trying (and mostly failing) to whisper in the dark.

"Hey babe, how was school?"

Luke sighed and rolled (with some difficulty) onto his stomach. He knew he needed to be supportive of Calum right now. He was on a world tour, had a new soulmate, was thousands of miles away from said soulmate, and weeks away from seeing her again. He didn't need to add Luke's bitterness over the situation to his list of worries. But Luke was selfish, and he couldn't help but feel jealous of his best friend. He wanted to find his soulmate too.

"The show was good. Only a few more and then this leg is done... No... Are you sure you don't want to come home with me?"

Luke groaned and pushed his pillow up over his ear. He'd heard this conversation a thousand times. He knew what the answer was. She had school. She had a life of her own. And sure, Calum was her soulmate, but she wasn't going to drop everything just to follow him around the world. They'd have to figure something else out, _blah blah blah_.

It was never any different, and Calum was always sad after conversations like this. Luke wondered if he'd ever get the hint. Sure Cal was stubborn, but from what Luke had seen of Amy, she was ten times worse.

"I know. It's fine. I'll be in California soon anyway... I thought you told your mom, I have a place to stay."

This pillow was really doing nothing for Luke. He could still hear Calum's stupid voice at... what time was it anyway? Luke felt around the mattress until his fingers curled around his phone. He squinted against the light, struggling to read the numbers against it.

02:34. _What the fuck_.

Luke was going to kill Calum.

"Well, maybe you could visit around Christmas time. My parents really want to meet you." There was a pause, and then Calum giggled, "I can practically hear you blushing through the phone."

"Oh my god." Luke groaned. He was going to puke, why him? Why did he have to choose the bunk adjacent to Calum's? Why did these bunks have curtains? And not thick, impenetrable, soundproof walls to protect him from this type of torture?

Luke gathered his blankets into a pile and threw his leg over the bunch, wrapping his arm around it too. He snuggled his face into the side of the blanket pile and sighed. He was lonely and jealous and tired. His eyes closed as he inhaled the smell of tour bus and boy sweat and wished that this stupid pile of blankets he was cuddling was his soulmate instead.

"Alright babe, it's late. I gotta go. I miss you... I love you too."

Luke squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck love.

_**(Still June 2016)** _

PJ was sitting on the floor of her apartment, fiddling around on the bass guitar and singing songs to her cat.

"Teddy, why you gotta be so cold?"

Teddy blinked.

"You used to like me as kitten but then you got old."

Teddy meowed.

PJ played a few more notes before Teddy jumped off his perch on the window sill and onto her lap. PJ chuckled as she set her bass to the side before scratching under Teddy's chin. Teddy purred contentedly.

"You know Ted," PJ said, "I should probably get a real roommate. I think I talk to you too much." Teddy meowed. "English please," PJ laughed at her own joke before picking up Teddy and setting him off to the side.

"Yep. I definitely need a roommate."

PJ got up off the floor and headed for the kitchen, stopping at the pile of mail she had tossed onto the counter just hours before. She finally picked it up and shuffled through the pile.

"Insurance, bills, so many bills," she muttered under her breath. Nothing very exciting. Except for the postcard from her older sister, who was currently in Morocco on vacation with her girlfriend. PJ rolled her eyes, because who the fuck even sends postcards anymore? Even though it was completely stupid and unnecessary, PJ hung the postcard on her fridge with a fond smile on her face. She slid it into one of the rare empty spaces on the front door, right next to a picture she'd stolen from her mom after her graduation. It was her entire family, all crowded together and smiling around a very excited graduation-cap wearing PJ. PJ smiled at the picture, reaching a hand up to run her fingers across her family's faces.

There was her dad with his arm wrapped around her mum, both looking very excited to finally stop paying for PJ's education. Her older sister was pointing at PJ with a huge open mouth smile, (probably mid-celebratory-scream judging by the mildly-alarmed look on PJ's face) and her younger sister had both arms wrapped around PJ as she grinned at the camera.

PJ's little sister was probably the sweetest and most genuine person PJ knew. She had most people wrapped around her finger after just one conversation. PJ remembered asking her once how she didn't have a boyfriend with all the attention she got from everyone around her. She'd just shrugged and smiled sweetly,

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend."

"A girlfriend then?" PJ had asked, and her little sister had shrugged again.

"I'm waiting for my soulmate Peej."

PJ had rolled her eyes, "You don't think that's actually true, do you?"

"Of course I do," her sister had said with complete sincerity. "You'd understand if you saw someone get their colors for the first time. It's like... it's unreal."

PJ had scoffed while her little sister had smiled apologetically and rubbed her hand up and down PJ's arm.

PJ was one of those babies that had barely escaped living a colorless life. December 31, 1993, at almost the stroke of midnight, PJ had been born. She could see color perfectly fine. Five years later her little sister was born, her world shrouded completely in black and white. PJ had heard all the theories about her younger sister's generation growing up, but had brushed them off as completely ridiculous. It wasn't up until a few years ago that the science behind the soulmate theory had proven sound. PJ still liked to think of it as mostly stupid, even though there a large part of her that knew the theory was most likely true.

PJ's little sister didn't understand her rejection of the theory, but being her compassionate self, she didn't fight PJ on it. She let her sister believe what she wanted while she herself waited to find the person to give her her colors. She didn't know that a small part of PJ had always believed in the soulmate theories, and that a big part of PJ was secretly jealous of her little sister.

PJ had dated lots of guys. She'd even fallen in love once. But PJ had never found someone who really understood her, completed her. Instead she'd been heartbroken more than once, and left wishing that the universe had made it as easy for her as it was for her little sister. PJ wasn't one of the lucky ones who only had to wait and see who their soulmate was. She was one of the ones who had to go through all the hard stuff. The pain, the heartbreak.

PJ didn't get any free passes, she only got hurt.

_**(Still June 2016, man)** _

"We are the champions, no time for losers, we are the champions!" Michael was shouting from the back of the van. Ashton joined in occasionally in the highest voice possible while Calum went for the low notes. Luke sang in one of his more irritating voices to help complete the worst rendition of "We are the Champions" possibly ever.

The boys were on their way back from a Vegemite, Beat the Mighty Drum campaign to rally support for the upcoming Olympic Games. And they were more than a little excited. Their driver looked about ready to jump out of the moving vehicle, but that didn't stop the boys from belting out another round as they drove through Sydney.

Luke had been doing a lot better since he'd been home. He'd been able to separate himself a bit more from Calum (aka Mr. Lonely) and had been talking to his girlfriend a lot more lately. It'd helped get his mind off the lonely ache that was always present. Now he only had a day or two left of promo to get through before the real break would start, and then he'd be on his way to California before the next leg of the tour started. The night previous he'd had a long conversation with his older brother about the Calum/soulmate situation, and Jack had kindly offered to join Luke in the states for a few weeks. Jack had been born before the shift, so he had always had the ability to see color, and had found love the old fashioned way. Luke was happy that he'd be joining the boys on tour for a while, and he was actually looking forward to being on a bus with his band (Mr. Lonely included).

Calum was also doing a lot better since arriving home. As soon as he'd gotten to Sydney he and Ashton had both booked flights back to California, scheduled to leave after the end of the Vegemite campaign. Cal had already organized a speed date with his family (which had Ashton sulking because he had "exclusive rights to that phrase Calum. I made it up. Copyright, trademark, Ashton Irwin"). In only a little while he'd finally be on his way to see Amy again.

Things hadn't been difficult in the normal sense of the word between Calum and Amy. The long distance was painful, but it didn't put a strain on their relationship like it would have if they weren't soulmates. When Luke had tried to explain what he'd seen Calum and Amy go through to his older brother, Jack hadn't believed it at first. He'd called it "fucking unreal" and told Luke that "relationships don't work like that. Shit. This soulmate thing is the real deal then?" (Luke had only gotten a little irritated with Jack after that conversation; only a little mad at the ache in his chest that wasn't fucking going away.)

The van pulled up to the hotel that all the boys were currently staying at and the four of them hopped out and headed for their rooms. Calum was hurrying, he only had a few minutes to get ready before his family would be arriving. Luke took his time, typing out a message to his girlfriend while he walked instead of paying attention to where he was going. A girl standing in the lobby watched him pass with an amused smile on her face. She and her sister were watching, waiting to see if he'd run into anything with his face buried in his phone like that. They were a little disappointed when he made it into the elevator with no mishaps, still typing away on the device as the doors closed.

PJ turned to her little sister and sighed, "How much longer do you think it'll take mum and dad to finish getting ready?"

"At least fifteen minutes," her sister giggled. "This is their first vacation in a long time. They're probably confused and disoriented."

PJ laughed at her sister's joke and moved to sit in one of the fancy lobby chairs. She figured her sister was probably right, they'd have a while to wait before her parents finally made it downstairs.

While PJ lived in Sydney, working for an up-and-coming music website, her parents and her little sister still lived in her childhood house in Melbourne. She hadn't seen them in almost half a year, since last Christmas. It was her mum's idea to schedule an impromptu trip to Sydney to get the whole family together again. PJ's older sister would be back from Morocco the day after tomorrow, so for now it was PJ's job to keep her parents and younger sister entertained in the big city.

"When can I see your apartment?" PJ's younger sister rocked on her heels and PJ couldn't help but smile.

"Not till tomorrow kid. We'll leave mum and dad alone for the afternoon, and then you can see it."

"Abby and Cameron just got a flat for themselves in Melbourne."

PJ raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Yeah, they were already inseparable. It was only a matter of time." Abby and Cameron were two kids who had lived in PJ's neighborhood for almost as long as she had. They'd gotten their colors at a very young age, and had been together ever since. PJ had always chalked it up to chance, but it seemed that her sister was convinced they were soulmates. (PJ was not going to tell her little sister that she secretly believed they were soulmates too. She'd seen them together, they were so compatible it almost made her sick.)

PJ chose not to say anything about the soulmate situation. Instead she just hummed in response and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She didn't want to have another soulmate talk with someone that she both loved and envied. She'd rather forget that the world worked that way, that the universe had decided to screw her over by insisting she be born only minutes before the change. PJ could feel a hot pressure at the back of her eyes as she looked out the window at the blue sky. The blue sky that she could see in complete clarity and likeness to it's actual form. The blue sky she could understand. The blue sky that she wished she couldn't see.

_**September 2016** _

Luke watched Calum bounce his leg up and down frantically as their tour bus approached the venue. They were nearing the end of the SLFL North American leg of the tour and had made quick work across the country to California, and Calum could barely contain himself. It'd been two months since he'd last seen his soulmate in person. Amy had been busy with summer classes and with her new job, unable to take the time off to visit Calum (and also super broke, which didn't really help). But now she was taking a week off of work before the fall semester started to follow Calum around her home state. Luke could practically see the excitement radiating off Calum.

The bassist's phone chimed and Calum quickly shimmied it out of his back pocket, thumb sliding across the screen as he answered the call.

"Hey babe," he smiled and Luke chuckled at Calum's sappy tone of voice. Cal was so excited he didn't even notice Luke's laughter at his expense, he just kept giggling to the girl at the other end of the line.

"We're almost there, where are you?"

"If you go up to the side gate they'll let you in."

There was a long pause before Calum pulled the phone away from his mouth, "Luke."

"Yes Calum?"

"Which side gate is she supposed to enter through?"

"The one to the right of the entrance. That's how Feldy ***** got in last time."

Calum relayed the information back to Amy, smiling at whatever she said in response. Luke took out his own phone, uninterested in Calum and Amy's conversation, only to find he had a text from his girlfriend.

**we need to talk**

Well shit.

Luke frowned as he went to call his girlfriend. Whatever this was about, it couldn't be good.

She answered on the second ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey."

There was a long pause before Luke sighed, "I got your text."

She sighed right back, "Yeah. About that... I met someone."

Luke's frown deepened, "Someone as in..."

"Yeah. My soulmate. I got my colors."

Luke could hear the smile in her voice as she said those last few words, _my colors_.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks," another sigh, "but, you know what this means."

"Yeah. I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I get it."

"I'm sure you'll get yours soon."

"Yeah." Luke's voice fell flat. He didn't want to talk about this. Not with her, his now _ex_ -girlfriend.

"I hope we can still be friends."

Luke ran a hand over his face, "Yeah, I don't know. I think I'm gonna need some space. At least for right now."

"I understand."

The bus pulled to stop and Luke looked out the windows. They were in the parking lot in front of the venue. Luke had a full day of work in front of him, and zero desire to talk to his ex-girlfriend anymore.

"Hey, I gotta go."

"Okay. Text me if you wanna talk."

Luke hummed in response before muttering out a quick "bye" and hanging up. He leaned his head back against the couch and stared at the ceiling, trying not to notice Calum's excited chattering as he pulled a shirt over his head and headed for the exit of the bus. Michael and Ashton followed behind him, though far less excited as the bassist burst out of the bus and jogged towards the venue, ducking through one of the gates held open by a security guard. Luke sighed and pushed himself up from the couch, following them. He had to pick up his pace to catch up with the others, and sent an apologetic smile to the guard holding the gate open as he slipped inside. 

He kind of wanted to cry at what he saw. 

Amy was climbing out of her car, beaming at Calum who was walking quickly towards her until he finally broke into a jog, throwing his arms around her and pulling her into him. Her arms were around his neck and they were both laughing, the crinkles next to Calum's eyes deepening as he held his soulmate in his arms. Luke's chest ached, and his loneliness felt like a weight on his back. He stumbled over towards Ashton and Michael, who were headed for the dressing rooms. Luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Michael, drawing a surprised yelp from the boy. It only took a few seconds for Mike to figure out what was going on before he threw an arm around Luke's shoulders and dragged him along towards the back of the stage.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pulling Luke through the door Ashton had propped open for them. Ashton patted Luke's back as he passed and Luke thought he was maybe, definitely going to cry soon.

"She broke up with me." He mumbled and Michael's face softened.

"That fucking sucks. Did she...?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Luke sighed and Ashton was suddenly on his other side, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

And so three dysfunctional boys walked down the long hallway leading them to the dressing room, leaning on each other and, just for a moment, letting their own loneliness overtake them as they waited for their colors to finally come.

**\---**

PJ was sitting on her floor again, bass in hand, plucking at the strings mindlessly as Teddy sat on the windowsill, his tail swishing back and forth. PJ let out a long sigh as her fingers slipped across the frets.

She'd had a particularly shitty day. The article she'd written for the music website had been rejected by her editor, and she was asked to rewrite it. A co worker had spilled hot coffee on her trousers earlier in the day, and when she'd gotten home after the long day at work, hoping to just scrounge some dinner up from whatever was in her cupboards and have a relaxing night in, she'd found the cabinets and fridge mostly empty, and remembered that she was supposed to go grocery shopping that evening. After an exhausting shopping experience, a frantic phone call from her little sister, and being caught in rush hour on the bus home, she was too irritated to cook dinner. So here she was, running on a banana and half a glass of wine and playing some sick jams to herself, hoping to forget that this day ever happened.

Her mind kept drifting back to the conversation she'd had with her baby sister. She'd called earlier nearly crying over the phone because another one of her friends had gotten their colors. "I just want my colors Peej, I want to see the sky, I want my soulmate." Her younger sister had described the feeling of loneliness trapped in her chest, the ache that always reminded her that something was missing, and it wasn't just her colors.

The conversation had been plaguing her ever since she got back to the house. PJ couldn't help running her little sister's words over and over again in her mind. There was something oddly familiar about them. PJ didn't expect herself to understand how her little sister was feeling. According to the universe, she didn't have a definite soulmate. She shouldn't have been able to feel the same loneliness, the same ache, the same uneasiness from the feeling that there was something missing. PJ had her colors. There was nothing missing from her life, at least not in the way her little sister was.

That didn't stop PJ from crying when she'd finished off her glass of wine, from grabbing Teddy and forcing him to cuddle with her, for feeling absolutely pitiful for her loneliness when she was supposed to have it all. Color, the chance to love anyone she wanted. Instead she just felt lonely as the hot tears rolled down her cheeks and Teddy licked her hand while the bass amp buzzed in the background.

_**October 2016** _

"We're almost done with tour, I can stay a little while before promo. After that I'll have a real holiday." Calum smiled at the girl taking up his computer screen. She smiled back, reaching up to scratch her cheek, leaving behind a smudge of bright blue. Calum chuckled.

"You've got something on your face there, babe." Amy squinted at her own image on the screen before rolling her eyes.

"It's fine, this my my life now."

Calum grinned at the screen while Amy tried (and mostly failed) to get the blue streak off her face.

"How's the art, then?"

"Pretty good. I'm still catching up, but I think I'm doing okay. How's the Luke?"

Calum's smile faltered, "Still sad. He's worse than Michael and Ashton put together."

"Poor guy," Amy frowned. "I wish there was something we could do."

"Me too," Calum sighed.

While Calum stayed in the hotel, talking to his girlfriend, Luke had left the premises as soon as he'd run some product through his hair and put on a fresh shirt. While he enjoyed the occasional night in (usually spent wallowing in his own loneliness), today he wanted to go out and distract himself from his worries. He'd already messaged his Sydney friends, asking them to meet him at one of the more high end clubs in town, and by the time Calum was saying goodbye to Amy and going to bed, Luke's night was just getting started. He was only slightly tipsy when he stumbled out of the club and into one of his friend's cars for an impromptu drive around town. Luke actually had no idea what the fuck they were doing, he was just happy to forget about his loneliness for a few hours.

His friends had taken a break from shouting and laughing in the backseat of the car to look up directions for the designated driver (who was starting to look mildly irritated by their terrible navigating) when Luke leaned his head against the window and looked out at the street. The bright lights shined white and grey in his eyes, making the city look hazy even though the air was clear. Luke watched the buildings pass in a blur before the car came to a halt at a stop light. Luke was reading the signs in the windows of the shops lining the sidewalk when his eyes fell on _her_.

The grey and white lights burst into colors that Luke had never seen before and _fuck_ , Luke needed to get out of this car, like _now_ , because he knew exactly what this meant. He'd been waiting for this for so long now. He watched as the girl continued walking down the street and was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of panic as he realized that his soulmate was walking away from him.

The car was still pulled to a stop when Luke unbuckled his seatbelt and lurched forward, throwing the car door open and nearly falling out of the backseat as his friends shouted after him. By the time he'd stumbled onto the sidewalk the traffic light had changed colors (and okay, they weren't just different shades of grey now, they were bright and vibrant, and strangely beautiful, but Luke didn't have time to stand around looking at stoplights). The cars lined up behind his friend's vehicle started laying on their horns as his friends continued to shout at him from the car but Luke didn't care. Luke didn't care about anything as he sprinted down the sidewalk after the girl. His heart beat frantically in his chest as she turned the corner and he worried he was going to lose her.

"Hey!" he shouted, sprinting as fast as he could around the corner, almost plowing into a pedestrian. He could still see his soulmate walking down the street, bathed in the warmest color Luke had ever seen (to be fair, he hadn't seen many yet).

"Hey! Hey you!" He shouted again, and other passersbys stopped to look at the boy shouting like a lunatic and running down the street. The girl kind of stuttered mid step at the sound of Luke's voice, and glanced at him over her shoulder and _yes_ , Luke thinks, _this is it_.

But this isn't it. Because the girl looks completely unaffected at the sight of Luke. Her eyes widened slightly in alarm, but that was the only response Luke saw besides the obvious quickening of her steps. Luke's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did she not see him? Did she not get her colors? Had Luke made a mistake? Was this girl not his soulmate?

"Wait!" Luke called, he was close enough to her now that he didn't have to yell so loud. The girl turned to looks at him again, clearly startled that he was actually following her, that he'd really been shouting at her this whole time. "Stop, you have to stop," Luke's breathing was heavy as he slowed down next to the girl and leaned over slightly, panting. The girl looked around her, seeing that everyone else on the street was watching this strange interaction take place, and stopped, turning to face Luke fully for the first time.

"Can I help you?" She asked and _holy shit_ , Luke thought. She was beautiful, her voice was beautiful. His heart was still beating frantically but he didn't think it was as much do with the exercise as it was to do with seeing her.

"Yeah, hi, uh," Luke struggled to catch his breath and the girl looked around the street, obviously feeling uncomfortable, "Um, I was just driving down the road, and I saw you and I had to come find you because-"

"Wait, what?" The girl cut him off. She looked entirely confused, and that made Luke confused because didn't she get it? Couldn't she see, like _see_ , what was happening? Luke was her _soulmate_.

"Uh, yeah. I- we're soulmates." Luke blurted out, and the girl's eyes widened.

"Um," she started, "I think there must be some kind of mistake."

"What? No," Luke panted, "You gave me my colors. I know. It's you."

"But," the girl took a step back, "I already have my colors."

"Wa-what?" Luke leaned back, his eyes widening in fear. She already had her soulmate? Had he lost his actual soulmate somewhere on the street? But he couldn't have, just looking at her he knew. Luke's heart ached in his chest. Had the universe really fucked him over this badly?

"I've always had my colors, I was born with them," she said and Luke let out a sigh of relief.

"So you don't have a soulmate then?"

"No," she looked down at her feet, "I was born before the change."

A silence settled over the two as Luke's breathing continued to slow down while the girl looked anywhere but directly at him. Luke finally broke it, his voice sounding strained as he spoke.

"What's your name."

The girl finally looked up at him, "PJ. You?"

"Luke."

"Well Luke," she ran a hand through her hair, "I'm really sorry, but there's been a mistake." She turned around and started walking away from him, and Luke started panicking because _no, no, no_ this was _her_. He was sure of it. He ran forward and wrapped his fingers around her arm gently. PJ jumped in alarm and pulled herself from Luke's grasp. "Jesus, what?" Her voice had an edge of hostility and Luke shrunk back into himself.

"I, I just," he sighed, "I don't think there's been a mistake."

The girl groaned and rolled her eyes, "Okay look, I'm sorry, but don't you get it? I was born before the change, I already have my colors. _I can't be your soulmate._ "

"Why not?" Luke asked, his breathing shallow. PJ's face dropped the angry expression it'd had and she suddenly looked confused.

"Uh-"

Luke realized that this was his chance, his one chance to convince this girl that what had happened to him was real. That he now saw color because of _her_.

"Just listen to me," Luke said and PJ sighed before crossing her arms over her chest and looking pointedly at Luke, nodding for him to continue. Luke took a shaky breath before beginning.

"I was born after the change. I've only seen in black and white my whole life. Today I was really lonely and went out for some drinks with some friends," Luke paused, "speaking of, I'm a little bit tipsy right now, but that's not important." PJ chuckled but didn't say anything as Luke continued telling his story.

"I was in the car at a stoplight when I saw you out the window. As soon as I saw you walking down the street everything changed." Another shaky breath, "Do you know I've always been told, my whole life, to stop at a red light. Red means stop. I've never seen red before tonight." PJ couldn't help but smile softly at Luke, who found himself inching closer to her as he struggled to look for the right words.

"I jumped out of the car, didn't even tell my friends where I was going. They still don't know," Luke laughed to himself, "I didn't care. I still don't. I just had to find you. When I saw your face for the first time, I knew. It's that thing the scientists talked about. The 'love drug' or whatever. I look at you and it's like I can feel it running through my whole body." PJ's eyes widened. "And then I heard your voice, and I just, you sound like home PJ." PJ looked away from Luke again, crossing her arms over her chest as she struggled to process everything Luke was telling her.

"I know you don't know me, and I don't know you. I really don't know anything," Luke said, "but I know for a fact that you're my soulmate. And even though you can't see it, I can." Luke frowned, "I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted."

When PJ looked back up at Luke he almost gasped as he saw her eyes shining with tears. Her voice kept getting caught in her throat as she tried to speak,

"I- fuck, this- this is exactly what I've wanted." She drew a shuddering breath, "I'd always thought the universe had fucked me over. I didn't think I got a soulmate." She ran a hand through her hair and breathed deeply before speaking again.

"I can't tell you that I feel the same way you do, because I don't. But I believe you when you say you're my soulmate." Another deep breath. "I'm willing to give this a shot."

A wide smile broke across the blonde boys face and he laughed out loud, throwing both arms around the girl in front of him and picking her up, spinning her around in his arms. PJ squeaked a little at first, being caught up in this strangers arms, but soon she was laughing too.

And that was how it started.

With two people, laughing in the middle of the dark pavement because they were going to give this a shot. Give each other a shot. Because even if PJ couldn't see it for herself, she could see it in Luke, in the way Luke looked at her even though he'd only known her for a few minutes.

They were soulmates.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *okay listen. Last year when my friend and I were waiting in line at the 5SOS concert at Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View, CA John Feldmann pulled up to the side gate at the venue right next to where we were sitting and rolled on in. my biggest regret in life is not saying hi to him while he was waiting for them to open the gate. anyway...
> 
> thanks for reading (lol does anyone even read this?). see you later maybe.


	3. michael

_**October 2016** _

"Code red everybody, we've got a code red!" Calum shouted as he ran into the dressing room, where essential crew and band members were waiting for the arrival of the last two stragglers. Luke was only a few steps behind him, looking a strange combination of irritated, shy, and smug all at the same time.

"The fuck is a code red?" Michael asked, looking up from his phone. Calum's smile was so wide, it took up most of his face.

"Luke got his colors. Code red motherfuckers!" Cal shouted and Luke blushed, despite the large grin on his face.

Calum's announcement successfully got the attention of everyone in the room as Ashton lept from his seat and John's eyes widened in alarm.

"Holy shit, no way."

"When? And who?"

"We have work to do." John spoke over Michael and Ashton as he stepped to Luke's side, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "We're running through the lights now. We don't need another Calum on our hands."

While Cal normally would've sassed John back swiftly and without mercy, he was too excited to focus as he bounced after John and Luke, who were heading towards the stage, the majority of the crew following. Ashton and Michael shared a glance, Ash letting out a long sigh while Michael's normally slumped shoulders were tense.

"Well," said Ash. Michael watched his friend's face change from an expression of shock to one of sadness.

"I know," Michael said, and honestly Ash was a little surprised that he wasn't making some kind of crude joke right now. Instead he was putting his arm around Ashton's shoulders and steering him towards the door. "Team Mashton for life."

Michael smiled as he saw a little grin cross Ashton's face, and he happily returned Ashton's fist bump as they exited the room and headed for the stage, where Luke was standing front and center, waiting to be assaulted by flashing, colored lights.

It turned out that John was kind of a genius and possibly the best tour manager ever, because after getting the light show out of the way (and Luke's subsequent "holy shit"s and "the fuck is that color"s as well), the show went off without a hitch. Luke was a bit more jumpy than usual, but nothing so extreme that the fans would notice anything different. The lads were over the moon when they left the stage for the last time that night.

"Only one more show to go!" Ashton shouted, pulling a beer out of the fridge. Everyone in the room cheered. The shows were fun, but after several months of nonstop travelling, late nights, and screaming crowds, the crew and the band were ready for a break before the next round. Michael snatched his own beer from the fridge and collapsed onto the sofa, at this point only mildly annoyed by his sweaty shirt. He finished his beer before sliding off the couch and putting the empty bottle and his phone on the table in front of him.

"You off to shower?" Luke spoke up, and Michael realized that Luke really hadn't said much at all today besides the occasional color-induced swear word.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have a shower now," Michael answered, heading over to the crates in the corner of the room where there were plenty of spare towels handy. He could hear Luke's footsteps behind him.

"Alright, I'm coming. Grab me one too." Michael rolled his eyes, but grabbed Luke a towel all the same, throwing it at his chest before heading out the door. The communal showers were only a short walk down the hall, and soon enough the two boys were throwing their clothes across the tile floor and waiting for the cold water to get hot.

"So," Michael said as he held his hand under the running water, "You never told us. Who's the lucky lady?"

If Michael had been looking at Luke he would've seen the blonde blushing as he shifted from one foot to the other. "Uh, her name's PJ."

"Cool name," Michael said as he stepped under the now hot water. "She lives here then?"

"Yeah. She's from Melbourne but she's working in Sydney now. For a music website."

Michael raised his eyebrows, "How appropriate."

"Yep," Luke stepped under his own shower head. "She's actually really cool. I like her." And Luke was blushing again. Or maybe it was just the heat of the water that was making his skin turn red. Either way, Michael couldn't help but tease Luke as he reached for the shampoo.

"Well, I'd hope so, given that you're _soulmates_ and all."

"Yeah." Luke wasn't smiling like Michael thought he'd be. He was just standing under the hot water, looking kind of like a sad, wet dog. Michael frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong," Luke shrugged and swiped the shampoo from Michael's hands. Michael glared at Luke.

"Don't start with me, Luke-ass."

Luke glared at Michael, before letting out a sigh and tossing the shampoo bottle to the ground.

"She- I- Ugh. She was born before the change. So, she already saw in color before meeting me."

Michael's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Yeah."

"That doesn't mean she's not your soulmate though, right?"

"No," Luke wiped at some stray soap suds that were getting too close to his eyes, "But... it just makes things more complicated."

"What's happened so far?"

Luke let the hot water wash the soap out of his sudsy hair, "I like, already love her? Maybe? I don't know, but this is no fucking joke." He chuckled and looked down at his feet, watching the water swirl down the drain. "And she doesn't. She believes that she's my soulmate, but I don't know if she believes that I'm _hers_." Luke sighed, "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Michael said. He was kind of at a loss for words. Luke wasn't usually this open with him, with anyone. All the guys tended to keep their emotions to themselves. So hearing Luke sound so, _heartbroken_ , like, really hurt, was hard. Michael didn't know how to help him, there really wasn't anything he could do besides be there. So that's what he told Luke.

"I don't know how to help you, but I'm here. You know, if you ever want to talk. Or get drunk or cuddle." Michael smiled, "Or all of the above."

Luke chuckled and grabbed a bottle of soap. "I know."

The two boys smiled at each other and let the sound of the water falling fill up the silence around them for a while. They didn't often have heart to hearts, and it was kind of nice to bask in the feeling, remind themselves that they had eachothers backs. Michael couldn't keep his mouth shut for long though, he still had questions.

"So," he looked over at Luke, "what's color like?"

"Holy shit Mikey," Luke grinned, "I can't fucking wait till you see it for yourself."

_**November 2016** _

Poem stood outside the door of her grandparent's house, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited for someone to answer the door. She could hear the sound of her grandpa shushing the dogs as footsteps approached the door.

"Poem!" Her aunt shouted as she opened the door. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Poem grinned, "Happy Thanksgiving Aunt Jeanie." Her words were muffled as the excited woman pulled her into a hug before taking her by the shoulders and looking her up and down.

"I haven't seen you since last Christmas."

"I know," Poem looked down at her feet, "Sorry about that."

Her aunt shot her a pained smile before pulling her into another hug. She didn't need to say anything, Poem already knew. Nobody blamed her for what had happened.

"How's your mom?" Jeanie asked as she ushered Poem inside. Poem smiled,

"She's doing good. Some days are better than others. But lately she's been okay. She sends her love."

Aunt Jeanie nodded in appreciation and directed her into the sitting room, where the rest of the family was catching up, talking over the sound of the TV in the background. Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving special was playing, and Poem couldn't help but smile at the nostalgia of it all.

She was greeted by various extended family members shouting her name and with many hugs and kisses from the people she hadn't seen in almost a year. She took the opportunity to update the rest of her family on her mom's condition before settling down next to her grandpa on the couch. He tousled her hair and kissed her forehead.

"How are you my haiku?"

Poem smiled. Her grandpa never failed to put some new twist on her unusual name. "I'm okay Pops. How are you?"

"Okay. I miss your mom."

Poem's smile was laced with sadness as she leaned her head on her grandfather's shoulder, "I miss her too."

Poem's mother was in rehab. It was a long time coming, and Poem was glad that her mom was finally getting help, but in times like these when the rest of the family was talking and laughing together, Poem wished she could take her mom out of that place and bring her here.

Shortly after Poem had been born, her dad had died in a boating accident, leaving Poem's mother the single mom of a newborn baby. It didn't help that Poem's mom suffered from bipolar disorder, and with the combination of postpartum depression and the grief from the loss of her husband, she sunk into a depressive state of mind that lasted for years. Poem's grandparents had been around a lot when she was a little girl, always helping to take care of her when her mom had some particularly bad days. Even with the antidepressants, there were still some days when Poem's mother couldn't force herself to get out of bed. Poem had spent a good portion of her early years being bitter over her mother's depression. Now though, the thought of it just made her heart ache with grief for her mom.

At some point during Poem's childhood her mother had started drinking. It was just a little at first, to help numb the pain. And then it was just a little more. A glass of wine at noon. A mid-morning glass of brandy. And suddenly, Poem's mother couldn't function without it. The alcohol reeked havoc on her bipolar disorder, and last year Poem had witnessed her mother reach her breaking point. She'd come home from a night out with her friends to find her mom passed out in her own vomit, her pulse barely there under the pale skin of her wrist.

Poem had spent the rest of that night in the ER, next to her mother's side as she was hooked up to machines meant to monitor her heartbeat and inject fluids into her bloodstream. When her mother woke up to the sight of her daughter, curled up in a ball in the plastic chair next to her, tear tracks evident under the dark circles around her eyes, her mom had finally decided that it was time to get help.

Shortly after her recovery, Poem's mom had been admitted to rehab, and it was a slow but steady process. With her bipolar, it sometimes seemed like she had more bad days than good. Her recovery was taking longer than expected, meaning that Poem's situation was less than ideal.

Poem was living with some family friends close to her high school. She visited her mom at least once a week, sometimes more depending on her mom's condition. She was currently in the middle of her last year of high school, and the eighteen year old couldn't wait to graduate and finally have an excuse to move out of her friend's house. Poem didn't know where she would go, but she knew she had to leave. At least for a little while. She was only eighteen, but she already felt like her life was falling apart.

The couch cushions on Poem's left sunk down as her grandmother took the empty seat next to her. She rubbed a hand comfortingly over Poem's knee and smiled at her granddaughter.

"I'm glad you're here Poem," her grandma smiled and Poem grinned back.

"I'm glad I'm here too."

"Any new news from school?"

"Not much. I get a new batch of classes after winter break, so that should be fun."

"Oh, that's good. Are there any new love interests?" Her grandmother wiggled her eyebrows up and down and Poem couldn't help but laugh, despite the dull ache in her chest.

"No grandma. I'm not really interested in anyone."

"Not at all?"

"It's the soulmate thing grandma. I'm waiting for my colors."

Poem's grandmother scoffed, "That wouldn't stop me from appreciating all the handsome young men in my life."

Poem's mouth dropped open in surprise while her grandmother just laughed. Poem tried to keep herself from smiling as she closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, if you must know, Ashton Irwin is absolutely adorable."

Her grandmother's eyes lit up in excitement. "Ashton! Who is he? Does he go to your school?"

Poem chuckled, "I wish. He's in one of those bands I like."

Her grandmother squinted at Poem, "This isn't the band with underwear song, is it?"

Poem rolled her eyes, "They have other songs grandma."

Her grandma just laughed and patted Poem's knee, "I'm teasing love. I thought you were getting over those bands. You said you didn't like that one member."

"Michael Clifford? Yeah, I know. But the other three haven't offended me yet, so no. They're still not-gotten-over." Poem grinned and her grandmother laughed.

There was something about Michael Clifford that had always given Poem a weird feeling. Everytime she saw his face in music videos or on posters or in interviews she got a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was almost like the feeling one gets during the first big drop on rollercoaster. Her heart would pound, her pulse would roar in her ears, and her stomach would drop. Poem chalked it up to weird vibes, her intuition telling her that there was something off about him. For that reason Poem avoided all talk of Michael Clifford, choosing instead to focus her attention on the other three members of the band.

Poem was drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of her little cousin's whining, "When is dinner gonna be ready?"

Her grandmother rolled her eyes and stood from the couch, telling the little boy to quit his whining or there wouldn't be any dinner before heading for the kitchen to check on the turkey. Poem smiled and leaned back into the sofa. Her grandpa pressed another kiss to her temple and Poem sighed in content. Even though things weren't ideal, even though her mom wasn't there, even though she was forced to watch her family interact in black and white around her, she was still thankful.

**_December 2016_ **

_Calum_

_what are you doing rn_

**I'm hiding.**

_What_

**Amy's been on my ass lately to quit smoking. I'm hiding in the backyard where she can't find me.**

_She's gonna smell it on you later and then she'll be pissed_

**I'll use cologne.**

_She'll know_

**Shut up Michael.**

**Why are you even texting me anyway?**

_I'm bored._

**...**

Michael watched the three little dots blink before disappearing and cursed under his breath. _Low blow Hood. Just leave a man hanging like that. Whatever. I hope Amy catches you smoking and scorns you in front of you entire family._

Michael tossed his phone to the side and ran a hand over his face. The vacation had been nice at first, but now, after the release of another album and the end of a shit load of promo, and several weeks to follow of doing absolutely nothing, Michael was ready to get on the road again. His house was sad. His parents left him alone most of the time, meaning that Michael had a lot of time to himself to just sit and try to ignore his own loneliness.

 _Fuck me, when did I turn into a sap._ Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was dangerously thin now, stripped from the constant abrasive products he was running through it. He knew it was time to give his scalp a break, but he liked watching the fans freak out over his hair. Not that he could really appreciate it for himself. He didn't even know what color it was supposed to be right now. Couldn't fathom it. Not in the slightest. Which was kind of sad to think about.

Michael resolved not to think about it.

He'd been doing that a lot lately. Pushing his feeling down, away, ignoring them in the hopes that they'd just disappear. He'd gotten used to Cal's lovesick attitude since meeting Amy, but the new addition of Luke had made things... _difficult_ , again. And by difficult, Michael meant lonely as fuck.

Ever since Michael and Luke's heart to heart in the communal showers (which, "no Luke, you cannot tell the others that this just happened") Luke had been more open with his feelings, especially to Michael. It made sense. Luke had always looked up to Michael. Meeting PJ didn't change any of that. It just gave Luke more to talk about with his best friend.

_"I told her I love her."_

_"Holy shit."_

_"Yeah."_

_"How'd it go?"_

_"She told me she cares about me a lot. She's scared though."_

_"I mean, it's only been a month."_

_"I know."_

_"And she's not like us."_

_"I know. I just..."_

_"It hurts?"_

_Luke nodded, "It hurts."_

_Michael hummed, "Write a song about it. I'll help. If you want."_

Michael and Luke had written a killer song that night. Mikey had witnessed Luke pour everything he had into it. His pain and hurt, his feelings of rejection, his love for PJ, his hope for the future, his fears. At the end of it all Luke had tears in his eyes but his head was clear and his heart was lighter.

 _"We don't have to put this on the next album,"_ Michael had told him, _"If it's too personal. This one can just be yours."_

_Luke smiled, "I don't know Mike. What if it helps?"_

_"Helps?"_

_"What if it helps other people who feel like me?"_

And Michael had been struck speechless. Because Luke was right. This is what they did. They were songwriters. They took all the shit that was ugly and difficult in the world and made it into something beautiful, something that helped. If this song could help Luke, it could help others too. Others who were scared and hurt and hopeful all at the same time. (Michael was still too proud to admit that he _was_ one of those others, that Luke's song was something that was helping him too.)

Michael still had it, the tired voice memo saved to his phone of Luke's sad voice and Michael's shaky hands picking along on the acoustic guitar. He listened to it more often than he liked to admit. Now was one of those times. His friends were off without him, he was alone in his house, missing somebody that he'd never met and feeling all of the hurt and the hope and the fear. He couldn't push it down, couldn't ignore it when the silence was so loud.

So Michael listened to the song again. He didn't cry, just hummed along with his eyes closed, thinking about how one day he'd write a song about his soulmate. A second part to this sad first chapter. One where hope is fulfilled and love is returned. He'd write it and maybe by then PJ would love Luke as much as he loved her, and Ashton would find someone too, and they could all help and be helped without this stupid lonliness tugging at their hearts.

Michael sighed, _fuck me, I really am a sap._

**_March 2017_ **

"Hey Poem."

"Hi Sarah," Poem smiled as she entered the kitchen of the house she was currently living in. Her best friend's mom stood at the counter, sprinkling cheese over a pan of enchiladas.

"How's your mom?"

Poem frowned, "She had a bad day today." Sarah shot her a pitying look.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm sure she'll do better tomorrow." Poem wasn't sure. She couldn't ever really be sure with her mom. Her disorder was unpredictable. "Want help with dinner?"

"I'm actually almost done," Sarah smiled. "Just gotta throw this pan in the oven. Should be ready in half and hour."

"Cool," Poem smiled and turned to exit the kitchen. She stopped at the doorway when Sarah called after her.

"Melody's in her room, she wanted me to tell you to stop by when you got home."

"Thanks Sarah," Poem smiled and headed for her best friend's room. During these past months Melody had grown to be more of a sister to Poem than anything else. It wasn't uncommon that Melody asked Poem to sit next to her while she ranted about her lack of a soulmate.

Poem knocked on her best friend's door softly, shuffling inside after hearing a muffled "come in". Melody was sitting on her bed, surrounded by textbooks and papers, with a laptop on her lap. She smiled when she saw it was Poem at the door, "Hey."

"Hey, your mom said you needed me?"

"Yeah. I had something I wanted to tell you, and I probably could've just texted you, but I wanted to say it in person."

Poem shot her friend a confused look as she plopped down on the desk chair next to Melody's bed, "You're not pregnant or anything, right?"

Melody scoffed, "Fuck no."

"Am I pregnant?"

Melody rolled her eyes and kicked at Poem with her foot, "Okay shut up, let me talk."

Poem smirked but stayed quiet, waiting patiently for Melody's big announcement. Melody clicked a few times on her laptop before turning the screen to face Poem. Poem leaned in to read the small lettering displayed on the screen underneath the TicketMaster logo.

"5 Seconds of Summer tickets?"

Melody grinned, "Yep. Keep reading."

Poem's mouth dropped open in shock as she read the rest of the small print. "Holy fuck, how did you get these?"

Melody giggled, "I have my ways."

"And your ways included paying how much for these?"

"Hey, I've been saving my money for years for a day like today."

"Fuck Melody, I don't have the money to pay you back for fucking _front row_ seats."

"I don't want you to pay me back."

"What?" Poem tore her eyes from the computer screen to see Melody staring intently at her, "But these must've cost a fortune."

"Poem" Melody moved her laptop out of the way and scooted closer to her best friend, "I wanted to do this for you. You haven't been able to just let go and be a teenager in a long time." Melody smiled sadly "I had help too. Did you see _where_ the concert is?"

Poem furrowed her eyebrows, "It's not here?"

"Nope," Melody smiled, "It's in Vegas, baby."

"No fucking way." Poem couldn't help but grin at her best friend, "How the fuck did you afford this?"

"I told you, I had help. Mom and Dad payed for the plane tickets, the hotel. They even promised to give us money for food. We love you Poem. We all wanted to get you something."

"But," Poem's cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling, "but it's not even my birthday."

"No. But it's been almost a year since you moved in," Melody grinned, "Consider it an anniversary present."

Poem laughed at her friend and leaned over, pulling her into a hug. "I love you guys."

"We love you too."

"Kacey's gonna be pissed."

Kacey was a mutual friend of Melody and Poem. She loved the band just as much as the other girls, if not more, and was constantly giving Poem shit for disliking Michael ("you can't just like three members of the band, that's not fair to Mikey"). Melody laughed,

"Just don't tell her about it. Let her find out when she sees it on Twitter later."

Poem laughed again and let Melody pull her into another hug. She'd thought the day was lost after her mom's bad episode at the rehab center. But leave it to her best friend to turn even the shittiest day into one of her favorites.

_**April 2017** _

"Thank you Cardiff! Goodnight!" Michael could hear Luke shout over the sound of thousands of girls screaming at them. The band got together center stage for a final bow before jogging off stage. Michael was the first to leave, Ashton and Luke taking their time to throw guitar picks and drumsticks to the audience. Cal was close behind Mike, and in consequence the two were the first to burst into the dressing room, sweating and ready for a cold drink.

"How was it?" Amy stood up from the couch and went to greet Calum. Michael laughed as Cal went in for a hug but was stiff armed by his girlfriend ("shower first, Cal").

"It was good," Calum smiled, "Same old, same old."

Amy smiled back at him and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, being careful to avoid touching his torso that was covered in sweat. Ashton and Luke entered the room and shouted their hello's to Amy before plopping down on the couches. "How much longer are you staying with us, Amy?" Ashton asked as his fingers worked to twist the top off a water bottle. Amy chuckled,

"Sick of me already Ashton?" Ashton giggled around the nozzle of his water bottle and shook his head. "I'm flying back on Saturday." Calum groaned,

"Don't remind me."

Michael and Luke shared an exasperated look over Calum's lovesick behavior, and couldn't help but burst out laughing while the rest of the room watched them with confused expressions. Michael was still laughing as he crossed the room to grab his shower stuff. Ashton got up to follow him, leaving Luke and Calum to hang out with Amy and the rest of the crew until it was their turn to clean up.

"This is a strange turn of events," Michael spoke to Ashton as they made their way to the bathroom. "Usually Luke's the one following me to the showers."

"Yeah well," Ashton grinned, "Team Mashton for life."

Michael laughed and fist bumped Ashton, "Team Mashton for life."

The two were quiet as they threw their things haphazardly around the room and jumped under the warm spray of the shower heads. It didn't take long for Ashton to start singing as he scrubbed his hair, which just made Michael snort. At the volume the drummer was singing, he was sure everyone backstage could hear his voice. Michael almost jumped when Ashton stopped singing to talk to him instead, surprised by the sudden change in volume.

"How are Luke and PJ?"

Michael shot him a confused look, "They're fine I think. Why?"

"I don't know," Ashton shrugged as he ran shampoo through his hair, "He just seems, happy? For the first time in a while. And I'm glad. I just, I know it's been hard."

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "He told me a few nights ago. She called him on the phone and told him she missed him. Which is a big step. I think Peej is still a bit skeptical about the whole thing. Like, she doesn't believe it's happening to her."

Ashton nodded, "Understandable. I mean, technically she wasn't supposed to have a soulmate."

Michael hummed in acknowledgement and was content to let Ashton start singing again, if it wasn't for the drummer's sudden intake of breath.

"Do you think that if we weren't colorblind, we'd still be able to find our soulmates? Like, eventually down the road. Do you think Luke and PJ would've met and fallen in love? Or Cal and Amy?"

Michael took a second to respond. Conversations with Ashton always went like this. The drummer was always asking questions like this. He was a bit of a romantic, and Michael was, well, he was more of a closet romantic. So even though he liked to pretend that conversations like this irritated him, he couldn't deny his own fascination with Ashton's idea.

"I think," Michael paused. "I don't know. I'd like to say yes."

"But," Ashton's voice was heavy, "but what if they met the wrong person and fell in love with them instead? Like, what if it's possible to really _love_ someone who isn't your soulmate?"

Michael frowned, "Where is this coming from?"

Ashton sighed. Michael could see right through his calm exterior, to the frantic eyes and the panic that lay just below the surface. "I'm in love with my girlfriend and she's not my soulmate," Ashton frowned, "What am I gonna do when I meet my actual soulmate?"

Michael sighed and let his head drop back. He let the hot water run through his hair and over his skin, taking his time to come up with an answer for his sad best friend.

Ashton was the type of person that felt everything strongly. If he was happy, he was over the moon. If he was sad, it was like he was in mourning. Ashton's anger was more like rage, and his fear was more like terror. At times, Ashton's tendency to feel so strongly was great. He was fiercely loyal to his friends and family, and when he loved someone, he loved them with every fiber of his being. There was no doubt in Michael's mind that Ashton would die for the people he loved, he was so dedicated. The problem was, Ashton's big feelings came with a big heart. He fell in love fast and with everything. With cities, people, songs, with life. So of course Ashton couldn't keep a dating relationship casual with someone he was growing to care about more and more each day.

"Ashton," Michael sighed as the drummer looked over to him, a frown still spread across his face. "I'm going to be honest and blunt right now."

"When are you not?" Ashton snorted, and Michael had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"I think you need to break up with her. And not date anyone else. Until you find your soulmate."

Ashton's face twisted with emotion. Anger, fear, hurt, all flashed through his sad eyes. "I don't wanna do that Mike." His voice was small and Michael was considering possibly breaching their brocode and initiating a naked cuddle. He opted for turning off the shower instead, and started drying himself off with a towel.

"Ashton," he kept his voice low, as if that would make his words hurt less. "You're setting yourself up for heartbreak. You're setting your girlfriend up for heartbreak. You're not being fair." Michael frowned, "Trust me when I say you're one of the best people I know. You're better than this."

Ashton was still standing under the water, looking more angry than sad, and for a second Michael was a little bit worried that he'd said the wrong thing, until Ashton's shoulders slumped and he turned to shut off the water, grabbing a towel of his own.

"I don't want to be lonely again Mike."

Michael sighed, "I know Ash. But be honest with me," Michael stopped what he was doing to look Ashton in the eyes, "Are you really not lonely now? Even with her?"

Ashton opened his mouth and then closed it. His shoulders were tense and he didn't speak for a long time. He just went back to drying himself on before putting on a fresh change of clothes. Michael was already dressed and about to leave when he finally got an answer.

"I am," Ashton's voice was small, "I'm lonely."

Michael sighed, "Me too." He opened his arms for a hug, and while Ashton wasn't usually the most cuddly he didn't hesitate to fall into Michael's arms. The hug didn't last long, and soon the two boys were headed back to the dressing room to give Cal and Luke the chance to shower. But it didn't matter. They were both a little bit better. Yeah, they were lonely, and yeah, Michael had had _another_ heart to heart in the shower with one of his sad bandmates, but he was okay. They were okay.

After Cal and Luke left the room, leaving Ashton and Michael to socialize with Amy, Michael plopped down on the couch again, watching as Ashton grabbed the both of them a couple of sandwiches from catering. Amy was typing something on her phone when Ash sat down next to Mike, handing him the sandwich.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Sorry I had to pull a Luke earlier."

Michael shot Ashton a confused look around the sandwich in his mouth, "A Luke?"

"Yeah, you know. Just dumping my feelings on you in the shower and all that."

Michael rolled his eyes and groaned, "Dammit Luke. He wasn't supposed to tell anybody."

Ashton giggled, "You didn't really expect him to keep quiet about that, did you? That kid has the biggest mouth."

"Both literally and figuratively," Amy spoke up, startling Michael and Ashton. The three looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

And _yeah_ , Michael thinks. _We're gonna be okay._

_**June 2017** _

"Hey mom," Poem smiled as she plopped down on the sofa next to her mother. She looked okay today, a small smile on her face.

"Hey Poem. How are you today, my sonnet?"

Poem smiled, "I'm okay. How are you?"

"Good," she smiled, "Better than yesterday."

Poem pressed a kiss to her mom's cheek, "I'm glad."

The two of them sat side by side on the couch, not saying anything for a while. Poem pulled out her laptop and got to work on something she was writing. She dreamed of writing a book one day, maybe about her adventures or about her mom. She wasn't sure yet. But for now she was content with practicing her writing in her spare time, writing about anything and everything, real and imaginary.

Poem was startled out of her writing by her mother, who leaned her head against her daughter's shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, limerick." She sighed and Poem smiled.

"Thanks mom."

Things had been getting better recently. Thier insurance had come through and given Poem's mother the opportunity to live at a care facility. She hadn't had a drop of alcohol in over a year, and was a regular attendant at AA meetings. Because of that, the rehab facility had been at a bit of a loss over what to do with her. Poem's mother still needed care. Without the alcohol, she found it difficult to cope with her bipolar, especially on her down days. This new facility she was staying in was catered towards patients with mental illnesses similar to hers. Poem's mom got to meet others like her who were struggling, but surviving. Poem could tell that her mother was happy to be surrounded by such a close knit community, even if her daughter was farther away than she would like.

"When do you start school, ballad?"

Poem couldn't help but laugh, making her mother smile. Her mom had no shortage of clever nicknames for her daughter. She suspected that her grandfather and her mother exchanged notes over which names to call her every time she visited.

"I'm not sure. Honestly, I think I might take a semester off to work before going to community college." Poem spoke conversationally. Her mother hummed. She'd heard her daughter talk off and on about taking a gap year. She was supportive of whatever decision she made, content to see her daughter happy and thriving, whether that be in school or out of it.

"Won't you have to register for classes soon?"

"Not until late July."

Poem turned her attention back to her laptop and continued typing. She knew her mom was reading over her shoulder, but she didn't mind. The short story she was working on was just for fun, something to help her brain practice thinking outside the box. She quickly fell back into the story she was telling, letting her creativity take over as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Her mom watched tiredly, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep against her daughter's shoulder, her breathing heavy and slow. Poem didn't notice until half an hour later that her mom had fallen asleep, and carefully pushed her laptop to the side and helped her mother lie down on the couch to finish her nap.

Rather than waiting around for her mom to wake up, Poem wrote a quick note to her, left it on the cushion next to her head, and pressed a kiss to her temple before packing up her stuff and leaving the center. She walked to the nearest bus stop and fished her bus pass out of her wallet before plugging her headphones into her phone and letting the music wash over her.

Poem was on the bus when she got a text from Melody in all caps followed by a picture message.

**BUT CALUMS ARMS THO**

It was a picture of the entire band they were going to see later that summer, all lined up and smiling. Poem chuckled at Melody's excitement before zooming in on the picture.

_yeah, they're lookin fine_

**MORE THAN FINE**

**FUCKIN**

**AH**

More pictures started to bombard Poem's phone, and she couldn't help but laugh at her friend's excited behavior.

_you on tumblr again?_

**maybe**

_ur out of control_

**fuck you**

Poem smiled and scrolled through the pictures her friend had sent. She had to make a conscious effort not to look at Michael in each of the photos. She didn't know what it was, but she still got a weird feeling every time she saw his stupid face on the screen. She wondered how she was going to survive a whole concert with him constantly bouncing across stage. Hopefully she'd be too excited to care about the guitarist, and hopefully he'd stick to his side of the stage (though that was highly doubtful).

After scrolling through all of the pictures Poem locked her phone and slipped it into her back pocket. She stared out the bus window with a heavy feeling in her heart.

While Poem loved her mom, she knew she couldn't stay in this town for much longer. She had to leave. Part of her thinking in taking a gap year was finding a job in another city. Maybe something temporary, something that would give her the chance to escape for a little while. Her heart ached for something more than this place. Her heart ached for a lot of thing actually. Poem couldn't deny the disappointment she felt with every reminder that she lived in a black and white world. She wanted the ache to end. Some part of Poem knew that her sadness wouldn't go away just by moving to a new city. She'd still have that loneliness gnawing at her heart, reminding her that there was something missing.

And _fuck_ , Poem thinks. _Everything is fucking missing._ Her dad died when she was a baby, her mom wasn't capable of taking care of her. She couldn't stay in her childhood house anymore because of her mom's condition. Poem didn't have a place she felt she could call home. She felt like she was floating through this tired town, drenched in black and white, hoping that something would change. That she would finally _belong_. Fuck, Poem was so lost.

Poem was frowning as she stepped off the bus, the music in her ears still playing, loud enough to block out most of the noisy world around her. She was walking back to Melody's house when it happened. When she fucking broke down in the middle of the sidewalk because the music in her ears had done it. Had taken all of her pain and hurt and fear and hope, all of the ugliness, and given it back to her as something beautiful, something she could make sense of.

_"The blood in my veins is made up of mistakes,_

_Let's forget who we are and dive into the dark,_

_As we burst into color, returning to life."_

"Fuck," Poem sniffled as she sat on the curb, letting her arms rest on her knees. She stared down at her feet, looking absolutely defeated as she let her music wash over her.

And shit, this is what she wanted to do. One day she would write about this. She would make sense of this darkness she was in and she would tell her story so that other people could make sense of it too. So that other people could embrace the good, the bad, and the ugly, and be okay. Even though things weren't okay. Not yet.

_**August 2017** _

"Vegas baby!" Ashton shouted from the back of the van. The boys had just landed in the states, ready to kick off the second half of their North American tour. They were all hyped for the second set of shows, having just released their newest single with their fourth album on the way. Michael was proud to say that Luke's song was on the album, him and the rest of the boys dubbing it as "a song for the broken". Calum had already taken it upon himself to tweet some obscure lyrics from the song, and Ashton had started telling fans how excited he was for them to hear "the new sound, the new songs, the new us". (Ashton had always been the best hype man for the band, always getting fans excited for what was to come.)

Michael was proud of how far they'd come, and where they were going. The upcoming show in Vegas followed by the sold out shows coming up in California just solidified the love and pride he felt for his music, his band, his work.

"We're here boys," John shouted at them from the front seat. There were already fans waiting outside the venue, meaning that the boys had to sneak through the back. Michael could hear girls chattering excitedly over the wall as he and the rest of the band and crew made their way inside.

On the other side of the wall, Melody and Poem were sitting on a picnic blanket, sharing a bag of goldfish between them while Poem read aloud from "Pride and Prejudice".

"No offense," Melody interrupted her friend's reading, "but Mr. Darcy sounds like an asshole."

"Oh, just wait," Poem smirked, "By the end of this you'll be team Darcy."

"Fuck that, Malum for life."

Poem rolled her eyes and dropped the book to the ground, grabbing a handful of goldfish from the bag, "Why did we have come here five hours early anyway? We have seats."

"Because," Melody talked around the crackers in her mouth, "It was either wait in line or chill out in the hotel. And I'd rather wait in line. Plus this way we can get to the merch table faster."

Poem scoffed, "I am _not_ buying their overpriced merch."

"Oh come on," Melody whined, "Put away your adult brain for one second and be a completely ridiculous teenager with me. Buy a fucking t-shirt. Or some socks. Or something!"

Poem rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore Melody and picking the book back up from the ground, "Get ready. Darcy's about to fall for Lizzie's eyes."

"I don't understand you," Melody mumbled, but couldn't help but smile as Poem picked up reading again, making herself comfortable on the blanket as she listened to the story unfold.

Five hours later and the doors were finally opened. Melody had already packed all of their stuff up in a backpack and after going through the standard security and ticket check, practically dragged Poem over to the merch table.

Poem got away with making a small purchase. (Or it was supposed to be small, because a single pair of socks shouldn't cost _fifteen fucking dollars_.) Melody went all out. One poster, sweatshirt, and tshirt later (and a whole lot of cash that Poem didn't even know she had) Melody permitted the two to finally find their seats, which _holy shit._

"Hello stage," Poem said as they sat down directly behind the barrier, "I can't believe this."

Melody grinned, "I can't either."

Poem pulled her best friend in for a hug, "Thanks for this."

"Anytime," Melody smiled, "Seriously, I'm down for a 5SOS concert all day, any day. Just let me know."

Poem laughed and settled back into her seat, giggling as Melody sent snapchats to all their friends showing off how close they were to the stage.

Poem started to grow more and more impatient for the show to start as the pre-concert videos played on the big screens to the left and right of the stage. At one point they played a promotional video the boys had put together a few months back, and Poem had to look away from Michael's face taking up the screen. Her stomach felt like it had flipped upside down, and she could feel her heart beating against her ribcage while her mouth was suddenly dry. Melody teased her for looking away. She didn't know about the weird feeling Poem got whenever she saw a picture of Michael, she only knew that Poem didn't like him much. Poem resigned herself to avoid looking at the left side of the stage for the entirety of the concert.

Two opening bands and a shit ton of Nickelback ("are you fucking kidding me?") later, a large countdown suddenly flashed on the screen and the arena erupted into screams. Melody and Poem jumped up from their seats and leaned against the barrier in front of them, cheering with the rest of the crowd. They were positioned somewhere between where Luke and Michael would be standing, and Poem could feel the excitement welling up in her chest.

"Holy shit, it's finally happening," she breathed and Melody clapped her hands and laughed.

"Let's be kids tonight Poem," her best friend shouted, and Poem laughed in response. She wouldn't tell Melody, but she was actually extremely grateful for her best friend, for everything she'd done for her leading up to this moment. Melody had watched Poem grow up faster than she would've liked, and was now giving her back some of the teenage memories she had missed out on.

The countdown was drawing close to zero and the roar of the crowd was almost deafening. Poem let all of her guards down, all of the responsibility and poise she'd been using as a shield for the past year, and let herself scream in excitement over a band she'd wanted to see live for years now.

The countdown hit zero and the lights went out, making the screaming intensify as Ashton crawled up behind his drumset, the lights behind him blinding as they flashed with each beat of the drums. Poem cheered as she heard the shrill sound of the electric guitar sound from speakers, and then the deep boom of the bass. Suddenly Calum was running on stage, all smiles. Poem could see Luke beginning to make his way out to stage too, the music picking up as the boys approached their microphones. All that was left was Michael. Poem knew he was probably already on his side of the stage, though she hadn't given herself the chance to look. But now with the flashing lights and the vision of Luke curling his hands around the microphone, Poem allowed herself to check out the left side of the stage, because maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

And _fuck._

The lights above Poem's head that were illuminating the boys burst into color. Poem let out a scream as the screens above her flashed and the lights rotated around the room. She was completely overwhelmed by the loud music and the screams combined with the sudden addition of color because, _holy shit, I can see in color now._

Poem's eyes widened in realization and she turned her head to look at Michael again and she swore her heart was about to explode out of her chest. Because there he was. _Michael_. And for the first time in a long time, Poem felt like she belonged.

 _Home w_ as the only word in her mind, and she repeated it like a mantra, didn't even realize she was saying it out loud, standing shell shocked and staring at Michael until Melody shouted above the band.

"Are you okay?"

Poem tore her eyes away from Michael to look at Melody for the first time in color. And yeah, she'd always known her best friend was beautiful, but now she was stunning, vibrant. Melody was looking concerned as Poem opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally shouting,

 _"I just got my fucking colors!_ "

Melody's eyes widened in surprise, "What?" She looked around the massive room, "Who is it?" She asked, the show in front of them completely forgotten as she placed both hands on Poem's shoulders in an effort to get her to focus. The bright colors and _Michael, Michael, Michael,_ were making it difficult for her to pay attention to anything but him.

"Who gave you your colors?" Melody asked again, and Poem couldn't help but shout,

"Michael _fucking_ Clifford!"

Melody choked on air, "Oh shit."

"I know!" Poem was still looking around as the colors of the lights changed.

Melody's fun demeanor was gone completely as she grabbed Poem's face between her hands, forcing her to look at her, "We have to get his attention."

Poem doubled back, "What?"

"He has to know," Melody's tone of voice was urgent, "Or else you'll have your colors and he won't. _Fuck,_ Poem."

Poem was suddenly hit with the gravity of the situation, and only hesitated for a second before turning back to the stage, throwing her body against the barrier and waving her arms wildly in Michael's direction.

"Michael!" She shouted, her voice blending in with the screams of the other fans around her. Melody was quick to join in, jumping up and down wildly and screaming Michael's name.

The first song came and went in a blur, and Melody and Poem were still screaming Michael's name when the lights started flashing again, changing colors. Poem was finding it difficult to focus with all of the new input, and was beginning to feel lightheaded from screaming without stopping to take much of a breath. The fans around them were shooting them dirty looks for screaming obnoxiously throughout the music, but the two girls didn't care. They were on a mission.

"Michael!" Melody screamed, "Look over here you fucker, you gave this girl her colors!"

At that the fans around the girls suddenly started paying attention them. The girl directly next to Melody took one look at Poem's wide eyes and frantic behavior and turned to Melody.

"Is it true?" She asked over the blaring music. Melody nodded,

"Yeah. She just fucking got her colors and we have to tell Michael or-"

"I got it." The other girl looked determined as she turned to the boy next to her and passed the message along, telling him to spread the word. Melody's eyes widened as she realized what was happening, and soon they had a small group of people shouting Michael's name and pointing at Poem. Poem seemed completely out of it as she continued to shout, swaying ever so slightly on her feet. Melody was quick to wrap an arm around Poem's side and shout over her friend's head to the girl on her side.

"Hey! My friend just got her colors from Michael! We're trying to get his attention!" The other girl looked skeptical at first until she glanced at Poem, who hadn't even realized that she had tears welling up in her eyes, making all of the lights and colors blur together.

"Wait, is this for real?"

"Yeah! Tell everyone! We have to tell Michael!"

Melody had never been more grateful for the 5SOS fam than she was at that moment. Soon enough the second song was drawing to a close, and while the rest of the stadium was singing along, almost the entire front row was chanting Michael's name and gesturing wildly at him, pointing to Poem who was gripping the barrier in front of her tightly. The lights went dark as the boys transitioned between songs, but the fans didn't give up, and Poem's story was still being spread across the front row, and then to the row directly behind that. More and more people were chanting Michael's name with ferocity. The security guards standing in front of the stage looked confused. The fans in front of them were chanting Michael's name with purpose, like somebody's life was on the line.

Calum was the first one to notice that something was wrong. There was a sense of restlessness in the fans in front of him. He could make out the sound of Michael's name being shouted above the screams of the rest of the crowd. He turned to look at the two guitarists next to him, who both looked completely oblivious to what was happening. Calum took another look at the crowd, who was growing frantic in their urgency, and decided to take a quick trip to stage right.

He used the intro of their third song to dance over to the other side of stage, prompting more screams from the crowd as he huddled right up in Michael's space, shouting at him and hoping that he'd be able to understand over the sound of the crowd and the song they were playing.

"They're shouting for you!" He yelled, articulating and over pronouncing his words. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion and Calum groaned before pointing to the fans directly in front of them. A look of realization slowly dawned across Michael's face as he watched his own name fall from their fans lips over and over again. The entire first and second row, and looked like some of the third (though he couldn't be sure, it was difficult to see far past the bright lights illuminating the stage) were shouting and gesturing wildly. Calum was running back to his side of the stage for his solo when Michael leaned forward towards the end of the stage, staring at the group of girls directly in front of him. Normally if he did something like that, the girls would panic and scream, completely elated that he had noticed them. But these girls were on a mission. Their chanting grew louder, and he watched them all point to left, closer to where Luke was standing. Michael took a little step to the left and let his eyes scan the people there. The fans were shouting louder and louder, fueled by the realization that they were succeeding in getting Michael's attention. Michael's gaze followed their pointing fingers and gestures until-

"Holy shit," Michael grumbled as he suddenly stumbled backwards, falling on his ass in front of thousands of people. He could hear Calum singing while Luke shouted jokingly into the mic, "Michael! Not again!" The crowd laughed but Michael did not. He abandoned his guitar, slinging it off of his shoulder and setting it to the ground as he rose to his knees, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright lights which were flashing different colors _very aggressively._

It was by this point that the rest of the band realized that there was something very wrong with Michael. Calum was back at his side again, throwing an arm around him to help him up to his feet, asking over and over again if he was okay. Ashton was standing from behind his drums, watching the entire scene unfold while Luke apologized to the fans for the interruption, explaining that they'd be taking a quick break before continuing. Michael could see crew and security rushing over to him from backstage when the sudden urgency of the situation hit him full force, and he practically threw himself at the abandoned microphone standing in front of him.

His eyes scanned the front row once more before he was shouting into the mic, "You! You!" And pointing at Poem as directly as possible. The security standing in front of the stage jumped into action, quickly headed for Poem, who was starting at Michael like he was everything. "Bring her backstage!" He told the guards, who stopped and turned around, shooting him a confused look. Even Calum was looking at him like he was crazy.

The thing about being in a world famous band is that you're not really supposed to advertise that you've found your soulmate. Management said it was bad for business, and for that reason, Amy and PJ's statuses as Calum and Luke's soulmates were kept under wraps. But Michael, Michael could care less about management. He just knew he needed _her_. His heart was hammering against his ribcage as he spoke into the microphone,

"She's my soulmate."

All hell broke lose.

The arena burst into screams while the security guards, eyes wide with understanding, helped Poem climb over the barrier. Michael was being dragged away from the mic by his own crew while Calum was smiling uncontrollably, jumping up and down behind the group. Ashton was clambering down from his drums and Luke was apologizing one more time to the crowd before running after the crew towards backstage. John was already there to greet the bunch, looking very disgruntled over the entire situation. Michael didn't give a fuck.

"Where is she?" Michael asked, his voice uncharacteristically calm. John frowned,

"I don't know, but you shouldn't have done that."

"Where is she?" Michael asked again. He refused to be scolded for this. "I want to see her. _Now_." His voice was dangerously cold, and even John looked taken aback at the tone Michael was using. There was the sound of a door opening and footsteps and then an unfamiliar voice was speaking.

"Uh, we've got her." A security guard spoke up and Michael whirled around, his eyes immediately finding hers. Michael couldn't keep the smile off his face as he looked at her properly for the first time.

"Hi," his voice was soft and John sputtered behind him, caught off guard by the sudden switch from dark eyed guitarist to love struck boy.

"Hi," the girl smiled shyly and Michael was in love.

He quickly crossed the space between them, just wanting to be closer to her. The crew around them backed away, giving the two space. Michael's heart was racing as he raised his hands, about to place them on her face, but then hesitating, unsure if she would be alright with that much physical contact after having literally only spoken _two words_ to each other.

"What's your name?" He asked instead, letting his hands drop to his sides. The girl smiled,

"Poem."

"I'm Michael."

She nodded, smirking up at him and, _no shit she knows your name, she had fucking front row seats to your show._

"I, uh-" Michael swallowed, his voice getting caught in his throat. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to say much of anything right now. Poem blushed and took a step closer to him, and Michael thought that the color of her eyes were his favorite.

"I-" her voice was shaky, "I've been waiting to find you for a long, long time." She met his gaze and Michael could see it all. The pain, hurt, longing, hope, the _love_ that he was sure his own eyes were reflecting. And Michael knows they only met a couple of minutes ago, that he'd only just seen her for the first time not ten minutes ago. But shit, Michael's always been impulsive, and kind of brash. So he does what he wanted to do before. He steps closer to her and puts his hands on her cheeks, cradling her face in his hands. Her breathing catches in her throat and _fuck,_ Michael thinks, _I'm in love._

He's got tears pressing up against the back of his eyes when he leans his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, feeling absolutely _relieved_ that she is finally _here_.

"I-" Michael starts to say, but then, 

"Fuck it."

And Michael is rushing forward to connect their lips, and Poem doesn't even have time to let out a surprised gasp before she's melting in his arms, clinging onto him with her knees shaking because _Michael, Michael, Michael._

Michael doesn't know how much time passes before Calum is shouting, the smile evident in his voice,

"Alright, soulmates, we've got a show to play. You guys can pick this up later."

Michael pulls away from Poem with a smile, leaving one last kiss on her lips before heading back towards the stage.

"Wait for me?" He asks, and she nods, smiling brightly at him. Michael's almost to the stage when he stops and turns around. They're in Vegas after all, and he's impulsive. Might as well make the most of it.

"Hey Poem!" He yells and her eyes meet his. He grins, "Marry me?"

Poem throws her head back and laughs before shouting back, her eyes twinkling, 

"Yeah."


	4. ashton

_**August 2017** _

Ashton is on stage drumming his heart out when he sees Michael go down. He keeps the song going; he’s done this so many times he can keep a beat without much thought, and chances are, Michael is just fine. This will just be another one of his silly incidents that gets asked about in interviews for a few days before the world forgets the fact that poor Mikey fell on his ass in front of thousands of people yet again. The drummer is almost positive that Mikey is okay until he sees him practically throw his guitar over his shoulders and stagger to his knees. Ashton’s hands slip and he misses one of the toms, now growing concerned as Michael throws his hand up in front of his face, shielding his eyes from the lights above them. And suddenly Calum is right there beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and Ashton doesn’t remember when he stopped drumming but now he’s standing up, staring at Michael and wondering if he’d be able to leap over the massive drum kit in front of him. He’s starting to panic a little, and he feels like he might be in a dream when Michael launches himself towards his abandoned microphone, shouting at a girl standing in the front row.

And _what the fuck_? Ashton thinks. This kind of behavior is very un-Michael like. He’s usually so focused on his performance that he barely seems to acknowledge the crowd in front of him, and now he’s shouting at some girl, telling security to bring her back stage. _What the fu-_

“She’s my soulmate.”

Ashton’s mouth drops open and he just can’t fucking believe it. Michael Clifford just spotted his soulmate in a crowd of literally _thousands_ of people. He just got his colors. He just found the love of his life. And he just announced to the entire world. This was…

Ashton didn’t know what this was. Very bad? Very good? He couldn’t decide if Michael was incredibly brave or just incredibly stupid. Or maybe both. Maybe he just wasn’t thinking at all. (Honestly after years of knowing the boy, Ashton thinks that that’s probably it.)

The crowd is screaming louder than they have the entire night, and Ashton is watching Michael get dragged off stage and trying not to lose his footing as he climbs down from his drumset and quickly jogs to catch up with the rest of his band. His eyes are just adjusting to the dim lights of the backstage when he hears Michael using his serious voice with none other than John.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know, but you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Where is she?” Michael’s voice is dangerously low, “I want to see her. _Now_.” His tone is so cold that even Ashton shivers. He huddles up close to Calum and rests his chin on his best friend’s shoulder.

“ _The fuck is going on?”_ He whispers in Calum’s ear, and Calum snorts. This type of behavior from Michael is just as surprising to the bassist as it is to Ashton. They watch in fascination as a door swings open and a girl walks through it, looking shy and scared and a little overwhelmed. Ashton feels his heart break a little when Michael whirls around to look at her properly, a soft “hi” falling from his lips. The two look so sickeningly _in love_ that it almost makes Ashton sick.

He has to look away when Michael kisses her. The moment seems too private for the rest of them to be intruding on, and more than that, it hurts too much to watch his best friend fall in love while Ashton himself can feel the heat of jealousy rear its ugly head deep in his chest. And even worse, the familiar pang of loneliness.

Ashton wants to kiss Calum when he breaks the two of them up, calling all the shots as he rallies the band to get back on stage. Ashton thinks that John probably wants to kiss Calum too, he could practically see the man having a mental breakdown as more and more time went by with no band on stage. Ashton is quick to detach himself from Cal’s side and scurry back on stage, purposely keeping his eyes on the drums, away from whatever last words or kisses Michael and his soulmate might be sharing. Ashton knows he only has whatever’s left of their concert to get his shit together and be happy for his best friend, so he takes his anger and jealousy out on his drums, pounding them so hard that he thinks they might break. But he doesn’t care. He’s lonely, and pissed at the world for denying him what he so craves, and smashing his drums is a better solution than any other he can think of.

By the end of the show Ashton is exhausted. He played his heart out, and danced his ass off after the encore. He’s just finishing up high-fiving some fans at the barrier when he gets yanked back by Calum who practically drags him off stage and through a series of twists and turns until he’s in the parking lot out back where there’s a van running, side doors wide open. Ashton is a bit dazed by the suddenness of this new situation, but he still manages to catch sight of Michael ushering his soulmate into the car, settling beside her and pressing his lips to hers again. He can see Luke clamber into the front seat, sending a knowing smile back at Michael, and he can feel Calum pulling him into the car behind the two new soulmates, excitement practically radiating off of the two of them.

The van starts moving before the doors are even fully closed, and Michael is letting out a cheer as the vehicle moves quickly out and away from the venue and towards who knows where. At this point, Ashton still has no idea what the fuck is going on, and he’s trying not to get to agitated with his band mates for dragging him along on this adventure featuring Michael and his soulmate, who Ashton has still not been introduced to.

Ash waits until Michael is done whispering something into the girl’s ear, making her giggle, before coughing awkwardly and leaning forward in his seat.

“Hi, um, I’m Ashton.” He smiles at her, and he thinks that maybe this is the first time that the girl has looked away from Michael. Her eyes are sparkling, even in the low light of the van.

“I’m Poem,” she extends her hand for a handshake, and Ashton kindly obliges, sending a smile her way. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Calum,” Cal pipes up, and Luke shouts out his first name as well. The girl- Poem- chuckles and reaches out to shake Cal’s hand, and then Luke’s as well.

“It’s nice to meet _all_ of you.” Cal smiles widely at that and Luke’s still facing the front of the van so Ashton can’t see what he thinks of the new girl.

“So, uhm,” Ashton turns his attention from Poem to Michael, “what exactly are we doing?”

Michael grins, looking from Ashton to Poem, and then back again, “We’re getting married.”

There’s a pause. No one really knows what to say. Michael and Poem are looking at each other like there’s no one else in the van, and Ashton think he might puke.

“Oh.” Is all he can think to say. Which, real smooth Ash. Nice one. Way to be a supportive friend. He’s only got a few seconds to salvage the most underwhelming response to news of this sort ever, so he thinks fast, and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“So… I’m the best man, right?”

Calum immediately starts shouting and Luke whips around in his seat, glaring at Ashton. Michael laughs and Poem looks a little overwhelmed, but mostly glad.

“I was thinking all three of you could be my best _men_.” Michael raises his voice to compete with Calum’s shouting. It does a good job of shutting Calum up, though the bassist looks a bit unsure about the set up. Luke seems happy enough with the solution, and turns back around to face the road. Ashton just smiles, pushing the negative feelings down, not even bothering to name them until a later time when he’ll be alone and free to cry if he needs to, or maybe punch something.

Michael’s back to whispering with Poem after that, the two of them looking at something on her phone and making plans. Ash leans back in his seat and lets his head fall to the side against the window. He watches as the bright lights of the Vegas strip pass by, and wonders how he’s going to manage now that all three of his best friends have found someone, leaving him the only one without their colors and without a soul mate.

It’s only a few more minutes and then the van pulls up next to a little chapel, neon lights lighting up the entire exterior. Michael and Poem look positively giddy and are the first people to clamber out of the car and rush into the church. Ashton is stuck in between feeling sorry for himself and excited for his best friend, and he thinks that maybe Calum knows, because the bassist wraps an arm around Ashton’s shoulders as they exit the van, and he squeezes him tight.

“We love you Ash,” he whispers against Ashton’s hair, and Ash thinks he’s getting dangerously close to crying, and he promised himself he wouldn’t.

“I love you guys too.” He says back, his words strained and his breath short. Cal pulls Ashton into a real hug and rocks them side to side, letting Ashton hide his red face from the world for just a moment, pull himself together before he pats Cal on the back, signalling that he’s good now. The two separate, and Ashton nods solemnly at Calum, as if the two of them are going into battle, when really it’s just a neon chapel and a life where Michael is _married_.

Ashton decides that this is all very sudden, but good, and he’s the first of the best-man trifecta to follow Michael and Poem into the chapel, where Michael is requesting that Captain Jack Sparrow please officiate their wedding, because "fuck Elvis".

“Michael, you can’t just say ‘fuck off’ to the kind of rock like that,” Ashton scolds with a trace of a smile on his lips. Michael’s grinning as he snaps back,

“The king of rock is Billie Joe and we all know it.”

“You know some people would call Billie the King of _Punk_ Roc-”

“Shut up Luke.”

Soon enough Michael and Poem are signing documents and licenses and marriage certificates, providing ID and social security numbers and digging through their pockets for extra cash to tip Captain Jack Sparrow when the two are called into the next available room. Ashton feels his heart rate spike in anticipation, and he can’t even image how Michael and Poem must feel, the two looking a little nervous now, but mostly brave as Michael kisses Poem’s forehead sweetly before taking her hand and leading her to Room 3.

Ashton feels like he’s in a daze for the majority of the short ceremony. The AC in Room 3 must be broken, because it’s fucking hot in the little chapel, and Captain Jack Sparrow’s eyeliner is starting to run down his face while Ashton tugs uncomfortably at his shirt, wondering if he could get away with being the shirtless-best man. He opts against it, even though he’s pretty sure at this point, this might be the most unconventional marriage ceremony of all time. Poem’s friend (who Ashton later finds out is named Melody) bursts through the door just in time to take her place as Poem’s maid of honor before Captain Jack begins officiating with his best Johnny Depp impression (which, he’s actually not that bad. Ashton is kind of impressed.) When it gets to the point where Captain Jack asks for the rings, Michael ends up having to take a second to yank his pinky ring off his finger so he can slide it onto Poem’s, and Poem ends up borrowing one of Luke’s rings to use as Michael’s wedding band (which all three of the best-men manage to hand over without dropping, somehow all collectively deciding that this was their duty as the best-man trifecta. It makes Poem laugh and Ashton want to cry.) It’s all kind of disorganized, and a bit of a mess, and various members of the crew trickle into the chapel during the short ceremony, including John, who looks kind of like a proud dad as he hears Michael say his vows to Poem.

Ashton’s watching all of this and feeling a little detached, like this can’t really be happening, and then Poem’s voice breaks as she says a shaky “I do” to her _husband,_ and Michael looks like he’s about to start crying and suddenly, Ashton’s the one with tears rolling down his cheeks. He doesn’t even have time to internally scold himself for crying before Michael and Poem are announced husband and wife by Captain Jack and Michael does the most Michael thing possible and fucking twirls Poem around and dips her down before kissing her. Calum shouts with gladness and Luke cheers, and Ashton laughs with tears still falling from his eyes because he’s so so overwhelmed by all of this and it’s absolutely beautiful and he’s absolutely heart broken.

The band and crew are nice enough to not say anything about Ashton’s little emotional breakdown, and suddenly Ashton’s being pulled into the back of the van again behind a still teary-eyed Michael and a blushing Poem. He thinks they’re beautiful together. He feels alone.

Ashton thinks Michael’s lucky that they’re staying in a hotel that night that’s not too far from the chapel. The closer they get to their destination, the more antsy Michael gets, and the more Poem starts to blush. It’s kind of funny to watch, but also kind of sweet. Cal looks like he’s about to burst out laughing as the van finally pulls up to the service entrance of the hotel, away from the prying eyes of fans, and Michael practically carries Poem out of the van in his rush to get to his room. (Ashton thinks Michael’s lucky that they’d booked individual rooms for this leg of the tour.)

Their little groups rushes inside the hotel and takes the first elevator available up to their floor. Ashton can practically feel the sexual tension between Michael and Poem throughout the entire ride up, and he does his best to stay looking straight ahead and avoid any and all eye contact with the newlyweds. He can see Calum out of the corner of his eye typing furiously on his phone, probably contacting Amy, and Luke’s already dialing PJ’s number, just waiting to get out of the steel box they’re trapped in so he can call his soulmate and probably tell her all about Michael’s impromptu wedding. Ashton looks down at his empty hands and frowns.

The elevator dings and Michael leads Poem out of the elevator. The four of their rooms are all in the same hallway, and so the group make their way down one hall and around a corner to where their rooms are situated. Ashton has to look away when Michael opens his hotel room door, and then swoops a giggling Poem up into his arms before carrying her over the threshold. It’s too much for Ash. Calum and Luke barely seem to notice as Calum is still texting Amy and Luke is already on the phone with PJ, a soft, “Hey babe, I miss you,” falling from his lips before he closes his door behind him. Soon enough, Ashton is all alone in the hotel corridor, his door swung open wide in front of him, greeting him with the sight of an empty bed.

Ashton cries again then. And this time it’s not because he just witnessed his best friend fall in love and get married all in one night. This time it’s because he’s lonely, and jealous, and angry at how alone he feels. Ashton sits in the middle of his big, empty bed and cries because the room around him is black and white, and the only sound to be heard is his own labored breathing, and the only thing he can feel is his own lonliness consuming him.

Ashton cries for a long time.

_**Still August 2017** _

_Dear soulmate,_

_I was at work today imagining what it would be like for you to suddenly burst in the room when I had this idea. What if I were to start writing you letters about my life pre-you? I know it probably sounds a little cheesy, but I think it’ll end up being sweet when I finally see you for the first time._

_I’m not sure what these letters will be about, or how frequent they’ll be. I think they’ll be rather sporadic, and maybe I’ll just tell you about what’s going on in my life (I’ll try to keep from ranting about my annoying coworkers and tell you about my hopes and dreams, something sappy like that.) Honestly, I have no idea what will come of this, but I think it will be fun. And maybe it’ll help you get to know me a little better, and that has to be a good thing, right? (I mean, we are soulmates after all…)_

_Just a quick warning: I’ll have lots of questions to ask you. I love questions, they’re one of my favorite forms of communication. And yes, I will be expecting you to answer my questions after reading them. I’ll wait however long I need to to hear your answers (which at this point, could be forever, but I really hope not.)_

_This might sound absolutely stupid, and maybe I’m an idiot for putting this in my first letter to you, but I miss you. It’s strange, this soulmate system, because even though I feel pretty good about my life and where it’s headed right now, I still get the feeling that there’s something missing from it. Something beyond just color (although I guess that’s a pretty big thing that’s missing too). I hope you’ll come soon. It feels like I’ve already waited so long just to see your face and hear your voice, and there’s no way of knowing how much longer I’ll have to wait._

_It’s okay though. Because I’m patient. I’ll wait however long I have to._

_Come soon my dear._

_With love,_

_M_

_**August 2020 (Three Years Later)** _

Ashton's on his bike, cycling down the road, one hand on the handlebars, one holding his phone up next to his ear as he speaks loudly over the sound of the wind blowing into the receiver.

“Hey Mike, it’s me! Just wanted to call and wish you and Poem a happy anniversary! You don’t have to call me back, I know you guys are probably _busy_ ,” Ashton giggles to himself, “I hope you two have a great day. Text me and we can meet up for dinner some time. I love you both! Miss you! Bye!”

Ashton hangs up the phone and clutches it in his hand as he speeds up his peddling. He had decided to go on an impromptu early morning bicycle adventure and about three quarters of the way in realized that it was Michael and Poem’s anniversary. Rather than waiting until he got home, Ash opted to call them on the road so he could finish up his bike ride in peace, without having to think of the happy couple.

It’s been about three or four years since Michael and Poem got married (Ashton isn’t sure, and honestly, Michael and Poem aren’t sure either). And after three or four years time, Ashton’s band still won’t let him forget how he cried while Michael and Poem exchanged their vows. Especially Michael, who had been so caught up in his brand new soulmate that he hadn’t even noticed that Ashton was crying until Calum and Luke pointed it out to him _two days later_ , the asshats. Ashton’s only consolation is that Poem told him it was sweet. Good ol’ Poem: Michael’s saving grace (which okay, just kidding, Ashton loves Michael too. He just likes Poem better sometimes, like when she's the only one who's _not_ teasing him for tearing up at the sight of true love. Like, who hasn’t been there?)

Ashton's just grateful that in three or four years time, his band mates haven’t found out about the breakdown he’d had in his hotel room that night. It was a moment that Ashton now felt the utmost shame for, and he tried to forget it as he pushed himself harder on his bike. He was almost home now, only a few more blocks. Sweat was pouring down his back as the early morning sun had risen higher in the sky. California treated him well, but on days like today when it was hot as fuck, Ashton wishes he’d chosen to set up base in Sweden. Or maybe Canada.

After storing his bike safely in the garage, Ashton lets himself into the small house where he lives alone. He used to live with Calum whenever the band had time off. He used to see his band mates a lot more in general before everything changed.

Now Luke was married and living in Australia (and sometimes California) with PJ. They had a kid on the way (which, holy shit, Luke was gonna be a dad and _nobody_ saw that one coming, not for a long while.) Calum had gotten married not long after Luke’s wedding, and only a few months after Amy graduated from university. The two had the habit of going on adventures during Calum’s time off. Sometimes Ashton went with them, but this time around he’d opted to let them go by themselves. He felt like the couple needed their own time alone, even though when he did crash their adventures he was pretty much the best and most supportive third wheel there ever was. (Ashton prides himself on taking really cute, pinterest-worthy, relationship goals pictures of his friends and their soulmates. He's damn good at it.) Calum and Amy were currently in Thailand, and Cal had been nice enough to send him a few pictures only a couple days earlier. Michael and Poem stayed mostly in California, not far from Ashton's current house, but took frequent trips to visit Poem’s mother. She had some sort of disorder, Ashton wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to pry. But he thought it was sweet how the couple went out of their way to help take care of her.

So much had changed in the last three to four years. Ashton’s life looked completely different. Sure, the band was still together but they were on hiatus at the moment (and no, not some shitty hiatus that was actually code for “ _we’re breaking up_ ”. The band was definitely still together. They were just living their lives, being regular humans, trying to figure things out and make art without the threat of a record label hanging over their heads, because fuck management.) The hiatus had gone relatively well so far. They had about half a year left before they started actively working with one another again, and Ashton was excited to see what new sounds they would think up together next. More than that, Ashton was excited to get to see his best friends, all at the same time and in the same country again. Because when he was doing that, when he was with his favorite people making music, it was a little easier to ignore the pain in his chest.

Ashton still sees in black and white. He's twenty six years old and he’s never seen a blue sky or an orange sunset. He’s done so many things, been so many places, met so many people, but somehow none of it seemed to count. He wouldn’t count seeing something like the Eiffel Tower as significant until he saw it with the entire, beautiful, people-covered green lawn and cloud streaked blue sky framing it. Preferably with his soulmate by his side.

And there it is. The thing that Ashton wants most. A person. After watching all of his friends meet their soulmates, fall in love, get married, and start procreating (Mr. Luke-ass Hemmings) Ashton wants nothing more than that. He wants his soulmate, he wants his own happy ending. He wants to be able to go on group couple adventures with Calum, set up play dates between Luke’s kids and his own, and write kick ass songs with Michael while their soulmates give feedback. The constant feeling that something's missing only intensifies as the years go by, as his friends begin finding lives of their own, with their own soulmates, away from him.

Ashton is twenty six years old and he is so, so lonely.

**_October 2020_ **

_Dear soulmate,_

_I turned 22 today. My best friend forgot about it, or maybe she never knew in the first place. I suppose it doesn’t matter either way._

_It’s starting to get cold here. Fall has definitely arrived. I remember when I first started high school my mom used to take me to Starbucks after school. I always ordered a hot chocolate, no matter what the temperature outside. The only time I didn’t was around fall. That’s when they started advertising all their seasonal drinks, and they had this one that tasted like a melted caramel apple. I don’t know if they make those anymore, it’s been years since I last went to a Starbucks. With things being the way they are, Starbucks has gotten just a bit too expensive for my tastes. Maybe when we meet, you can take me out for a hot chocolate sometime. Or a caramel-apple thing (I wish I knew what they were called)._

_Yesterday they shut the heat off in my apartment. Like I said, with things being the way they are, Starbucks has gotten just a bit too expensive. I wish I had something happier to report, something exciting and new. Unfortunately it seems that my life is in a bit of a rut right now. Some days it feels more like a decline than a rut. Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I almost freeze my ass of in my own apartment. At least the heat in my car still works. That’s where I’m sitting right now. I was having a hard time writing you this letter with cold fingers._

_I still haven’t managed to find a job. I met a guy on the bus last week who told me he could set me up with a gig at a club and I think I might actually give him a call and take him up on his offer. It’s only temporary, until I can find something else worth doing, hopefully something that I Iove, though I suppose I’ve been saying that for a long time now._

_To be completely honest, I’m afraid that my life is really falling apart this time, so badly that I won’t be able to fix it. I’m afraid of a lot of things, but that’s been the reigning worry in my mind for the past several weeks now. I guess that’s why I chose this particular question for this particular letter. What are you afraid of?_

_Being that it’s my birthday and all, I thought that maybe the universe would be so kind as to let me see you for the first time today. I wasn’t so lucky. I miss you a lot. I imagine that you’re wonderful, and that if you were here right now, you would’ve remembered my birthday, that you would’ve celebrated it with me. We could’ve gone out for Starbucks (unless you’re one of those people who hate corporations and will only buy their drinks from little independent cafe’s, which is just fine by me as long as I get my hot chocolate), and then we maybe could’ve gone for a walk in that park that I love. I’ll have to show you it one day. I think you’ll like it. (When’s your birthday by the way? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.)_

_I hope to see you soon, and I hope that you are well. Come quickly._

_Love,_

_M_

**_February 2021_ **

Lights were flashing, fans were screaming, band members were jumping, and Ashton was drumming. This was an hour and a half of bliss for Ashton. Time where he didn’t think about anything except for the task at hand, which was ripping a ripping drum solo.

“Thank you Tokyo!” Ashton heard Michael scream into the mic before handing his guitar off to one of the crew members. This was it, the end of the show. It’d been a good one, Japan always had good crowds, and good crowds made for a good show. Ash jumped down from his drumset and jogged to the front of the stage to join the rest of his band for a final bow before the dance-and-throw-shit-at-fans portion of the concert (which was usually pretty great if not a bit dangerous). Ashton put his all into it, jumping off the edge of the stage, drumsticks in hand as he gave high fives to every fan he could reach. He decided to hand his drumsticks off to two little girls who were jumping up against the barrier, huge smiles on their faces. Ashton grinned at them and handed them the sticks, watching their eyes widen in surprise at being chosen. He couldn’t help but laugh as he continued giving high fives before climbing back onto the stage and waving one last goodbye to the crowd before ducking into the darkness that shielded him from their eyes.

Ashton was dripping with sweat as he made his way to the dressing room, hungry and craving some whisky. The other boys were jumping and laughing all around him, still high on adrenaline from the show. Ash didn’t hesitate to join in on the fun as the four of them tumbled down the hallway and into their assigned room.

Ashton had almost forgotten about the other people that were waiting for them. This happened most nights, Ashton got so wrapped up in the show that he forgot about the other boy’s families that were waiting backstage. He wasn’t sure if this trend would continue, if there would always be people waiting for them after the shows, or if it was just because they’d starting touring again after their little hiatus, but he was almost certain he’d never get used to it.

Luke was the first to break away from the boy’s minor wrestling match. He was completely out of breath as he stumbled over to PJ, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She scrunched up her nose at him but couldn’t keep the smile off her face as Luke placed a much softer kiss to the top of their daughter’s head. The baby was wide awake and looking up at her dad with big, round eyes. Luke cooed at her as she kicked her feet happily. If Ashton hadn’t been so distracted by Calum and Michael’s play punches, he might’ve registered the pang of lonliness that struck him as he watched the happy little family in the corner of the dressing room.

Calum was the second to leave the game as he headed to the fridge to grab himself a beer before plopping down next to Amy, who was watching Ashton and Michael in amusement. Cal grabbed himself a bottle opener and took a swig of his drink before offering the bottle to Amy. She turned it down, opting to reach over and take Calum’s hand in her own instead. She traced over the black ink that decorated his hands and wrists, smiling fondly at the designs there, some of which she herself had sketched out for Calum.

The post-show-adrenaline-induced-tossle finally diffused when Michael quit fighting Ashton, opting instead to pull him in for a sweaty hug before copying Calum and grabbing himself a beer. Cal tossed the bottle opener to Mike as the guitarist sat down next to Poem, throwing his arm around her and planting a kiss on her lips. Ashton’s heart dropped as he watched Poem smile in her husband’s embrace. He was the only one left now, standing by himself in the middle of the dressing room. Ashton couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming loneliness that accompanied moments like this wash over him. He cleared his throat and grabbed himself his own drink, opting for something a little stronger than beer because with feelings like this, he wanted to get fucked up. Calum shot him a knowing look as Ashton poured himself a glass, but didn’t say anything. Ashton was grateful.

“PJ and I are heading back to the hotel,” Luke rose his voice to address the entire room, “Katie is tired, and needs to get to bed.” Ashton watched as Luke picked up the baby in his arms, cuddling her against his chest. PJ smiled at her two people, her eyes filled with so much _fond_ , that Ashton had to look away.

“We’ll head back with you,” Calum patted Amy’s knee and the two rose from the couch. Michael and Poem had one of their silent conversation with their eyes before standing up as well. Ashton tried to keep his voice neutral as he responded,

“Yeah, I guess I’ll head back too.”

Calum shot him another knowing look, but still didn’t say anything, and that was enough for Ashton. If he’d been paying close attention he would have seen Michael and Luke send him similar glances, but Ashton was already hurrying to collect his things from around the dressing room. He had just pocketed his phone when Katie was thrust into his arms.

“Uncle Ashton, would you mind?” Luke smiled wide and Ashton couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed as Katie curled up against his shirt and blinked sleepily at him. Instead he just readjusted the baby in his arms, and smiled softly down at her tired expression. Luke grinned, happy that his attempt at distracting Ashton from his pain had worked.

“Hi Katie,” Ashton spoke softly to the baby while her parents scurried around the dressing room, double checking that they had collected everything they needed. The baby smiled at the sound of Ashton’s familiar voice and closed her eyes, content to fall asleep in Ashton’s arms. Poem awed at the pair of them, causing Michael to find the source of her delight. Michael scowled playfully,

“She’s never that nice when I hold her. I swear she’s always trying to poke my eyes out.”

Ashton rolled his eyes and cradled Katie closer to himself, “That’s because you’re not gentle with her. You’re too loud. She doesn’t like it.”

Michael narrowed his eyes while PJ sighed at the two grown men acting like children, “She likes all of her uncles equally, and that includes you Michael. Maybe she can just sense that you’re more hardcore than the rest of these losers.”

Michael laughed in response while Calum grumbled at being called a loser, causing little Katie to shift in her sleep. Ashton took matters into his own hands and quickly exited the dressing room, standing outside in the much-quieter hallway. He took the opportunity to gaze down at Katie, smiling at her sleeping face. Ashton had never really liked babies until Luke had one of his own. Maybe it was just this kid in particular. Katie seemed to like Ashton, and Ashton liked Katie. They had a mutual understanding. Ash let his mind wander as he gently rocked the baby back and forth in the hallway, humming a lullaby that his mum used to sing to him under his breath.

Ashton wanted a family of his own so bad. Even though he was proud of his friends for finding love and pursuing lives of their own, he was also so so envious of them. He wanted his soulmate. Since he’d sworn off casual dating a few years ago, his life had grown even more lonely. There were days where he wanted to break the rules he’d set for himself, and go find someone random to fuck and then maybe grab brunch with afterwards. But he knew that he’d only hurt himself by doing so. Ashton’s heart was too big for him to just play with his own emotions like that. He needed to wait for his soulmate. It was just that sometimes, the wait seemed like it would take forever, and Ashton was getting impatient.

_**February 2021** _

_Dear soulmate,_

_I know it’s been awhile since I last wrote you a letter. Not that you know that, or even care since we still haven’t managed to find each other. I wonder if you’ve got some other girl under your arm instead of me, if you’ve given up. To be honest, I couldn’t really blame you. Sometimes the loneliness is too much to bear._

_Last I wrote you, I told you I got that new job. I thought it’d just be serving at that club downtown, but it turns out that with my background I was qualified enough to perform on the main stage. After my managers found out, they offered me an audition, and because it meant more money, I took it._

_I think I didn’t write a letter for so long because I felt so ashamed. And I guess I shouldn’t. Burlesque dancing isn’t so bad, and our team put together a few numbers that are actually pretty classy and not as horribly raunchy as you might be imagining. It’s just the other aspects of the job. Sometimes I get called off stage because some man has paid a lot of money to spend a few minutes with me. The girls here call it a “classy lap dance” cause we try to be elegant and shit, but mostly it just feels dirty. I don’t like the feeling I get when my body is a commodity that these men think they can call theirs. I’d like to think that I’m more than that._

_Ugh, this letter is taking a nasty turn. I didn’t want you to know any of this, though I suppose that’s foolish of me since most of the soulmate couples I know know everything about each other. I guess I could always throw this letter away and rewrite it, pretend that I’m not so mortified by all of this and just spend my time reassuring you that you’re the only person I’ll ever love, and that these men who want me are nothing. But the whole reason I started this project in the first place was to show you who I am, and how I’ve grown over the years. So I’ll keep being honest. I hope you’ll still want me after reading about this giant mess._

_There are a few good things that have happened in my life. Thanks to all the extra money I’ve been making, I’m not in danger of eviction anymore. I’m not rich either, but it’s nice to know that I can at least afford a roof over my head and cup noodles for dinner. I’m still looking for another job, one that I can hopefully exchange for the one I have now. The sooner the better. Honestly, I live in constant fear that one day I will be on my way to give a private service to one of the clients at the club and I’ll see you. I’m scared of being so happy I’d burst, and I’m scared that you’d be so ashamed, you’d leave. And what kind of life would it be if I had my colors, but didn’t have you?_

_Dearest, I hope you understand that I care nothing for any of these ‘clients’. It’s just work, and work that I don’t like doing, but that has to be done. If not, I’ll lose everything._

_This letter is probably far too long already, and I haven’t even asked you any questions yet. To be honest, I feel a bit caught up in my own shame right now, and it’s hard to think of any questions beyond this: My dearest, I haven’t met you yet but I love you, and I’m sorry that my life has come to this. Will you forgive me?_

_Perhaps that’s ridiculous. I have friends at the club who love what they do, and they would scoff to hear me ask that question. But they don’t understand. I don’t like what I do. It hurts me. I’m not cut out for this type of work. Maybe the question I should be asking is, do I forgive myself?_

_I’ve gone and made this letter all about me again. I’m sorry. I hope you’re well, and I hope that by the time you read this, by the time I meet you, I’ll be well and away from the club and we can both pretend that this past year of my life was all a bad dream._

_I miss you. Come quickly._

_-M_

_**December 2021** _

It’s New Year's Eve and Ashton is fucked up.

He doesn’t remember how he got so drunk, but he knows that he’s definitely going to regret it tomorrow morning. Getting hammered wasn’t such a big deal back when he was a kid, but now he’s twenty seven (which, holy shit, in three years he’ll be thirty, what the actual fuck) and hangovers are kind of terrible. He doesn’t usually do this to himself, but he’s at a party and he just kept getting handed drinks and now he’s really drunk. And it’s fine cause he’s actually starting to enjoy himself.

Over the past few years parties had turned less and less into an excuse to go crazy and more and more of a reason to catch up with friends Ashton hadn’t seen in a long time. This New Year’s Eve party is no different. Ash is out in the backyard talking to old friends, co workers, acquaintances, etc. and trying to learn everything he can about these people before he forgets it tomorrow morning. He’s kind of enjoying himself, chatting with everyone around the room and trying to at least seem sober, although his loud giggling and wild hand gestures are most likely giving him away, along with the occasional uncontrollable slur that slips into his speech. Overall, Ashton doesn’t _think_ he’s being too awful, but that could just be his drunk brain spewing more bullshit.

Ash has just finished talking to a friend of a friend that he doesn’t really know, but didn’t mind chatting with when a familiar face catches his eye. Ashton grins and make a beeline for the man who seems to have just arrived to the party, someone he hasn’t seen in too long.

“Josh!” Ashton almost yells into the man’s ear as he throws an arm around his shoulders. Josh just laughs, he doesn’t seem too agitated with Ashton’s slight sway and outside-voice, and Ashton’s drunk brain takes that as a win.

“Hey buddy,” Josh smiles as he pulls Ashton in for a proper hug. Josh being quite a bit shorter, Ashton has to lean down a bit, and he thinks he might fall on the way, but Josh has got an arm around his back, keeping him steady. Ashton pulls away a few seconds later, smiling down at his friend.

“Josh,” he says his name again, giggling, “how are you? I’ve missed you.”

Josh’s eyes are all squinty as he smiles at his intoxicated friend, “Good. Taking a break from tour. It’s been good. And you?”

“Fuckin’, things are great man.” Ashton smiles and Josh laughs again. Ash looks a little woozy on his feet, so the fellow drummer ushers him towards a low stone wall so that the two of them can take a seat, both sipping from their respective drinks as they continue to catch up. Ashton asks Josh about his break, his music, his Tyler, and Josh asks Ashton about his tour, his music, his Michael-Calum-Luke.

“Where is Luke anyway?” Josh asks, “I saw Calum and Mikey earlier…” he trails off and leaves space for Ashton to answer. At some point Ashton’s beer was swapped out for a water, which was probably for the best, but Ashton is kind of frowning at his too-sober drink as he answers,

“He’s at home with Peej. Katie’s got a fever, and he didn’t wanna leave PJ alone.” Ashton takes a sip of water and it’s pretty refreshing but he still kind of wishes it was alcohol.

“Woah. Luke is a total dad then.” Josh says and Ashton hums,

“Yeah. It’s fucking weird.”

“How’s tour been with the baby?”

“Fucking weird.” Ashton says again and smiles. Josh laughs,

“But it’s been okay right? Not too stressful?”

“Not for me,” Ash shrugs, “Luke and PJ are starting to look tired, but we’ve only got about a month left so I think we’re gonna make it. Plus, they’ve got a lot of support from the crew and from all the uncles.”

Josh smiles, “You like it, don’t you?”

“Like what?”

“Being Uncle Ashton. You probably spoil Katie rotten.”

If Ashton’s cheeks weren’t already flushed from alcohol, he’d probably be blushing right now, “I don’t spoil her. I just…”

“Give her anything she wants?”

Ashton shrugs, “I can’t help it. She’s probably the only baby I’ve ever liked. We’re buds.” He grins and Josh pats his back, looking strangely proud of Ashton.

“Look at you Ash, you’re growing up. You seem ready to settle down. When I was your age-” Ashton scoffs, “I was fucking terrified of commitment. But now a baby’s got you wrapped around her finger and you look about ready to adopt kids of your own.”

Ashton doesn’t say anything in response, he just kind of hums and looks back down at his water. He feels too drunk to be talking about this, and at the same time, way too sober. He just doesn’t want to be talking about this at all, especially not with Josh. Josh isn’t that much older than Ashton, but he’s old enough that he was born before the change. He doesn’t have to deal with this soulmate bullshit. If Josh wanted, he could settle down with anybody. Just fall in love with whoever and start a family, no color necessary. Ashton thinks about his past relationships, and he wishes that he could’ve done that. That he could’ve given himself the chance to fall in love and stay in love, maybe started a family of his own. Instead he’s stuck waiting around for a soulmate that he’s not sure exists.

“Hey, Ash,” Josh nudges him, his usual smiley face downcast and concerned, “you okay?”

And no. Ashton is not okay. He’s so so envious of Calum and Michael and Luke for finding their soulmates and of Josh for the choice that the universe has decided he’s allowed to make, and Ash’s lonely and starting to get desperate because he thought he’d have found the one by now and that he’d be spending New Year’s Eve with them getting drunk and regretting it later but instead he’s sitting next to Josh and Josh is great and all but he dyed his hair red and Ashton doesn’t even know what red is and the world is just so unfair and Ashton is starting to get scared that he’ll never find his soulmate and-

Ashton is crying. Josh looks overwhelmed, and kind of unsure of what to do. He might be Ashton’s friend, but this is kind of beyond the realms of their regular friendship activities. He does his best though. He throws an arm over Ashton’s shoulders and pulls him against his side. To an outsider, Ash looks like another drunk party goer on the verge of either passing out or puking, but Josh can hear the shaking inhales and exhales and feel the tears that are making his shirt sleeves damp. And he doesn’t feel exactly qualified to be doing this kind of comforting, at least not with Ashton, and he’s keeping his eyes out for Calum or Michael, cause they’d probably be able to help better than he can, but he’s doing his best all the same.

“Hey, Ash,” he speaks softly, loud enough that Ashton, and only Ashton, can hear, “It’s gonna be okay bud.”

Ashton just sobs, and Josh frowns and tries again.

“It’s- I don’t know what’s going on. I know you’ve got that whole… color thing,” Ashton shudders and Josh squeezes him tighter, “but you’re gonna be okay. Alright?”

Ashton’s voice is barely audible as he hiccups out an apology, and Josh sighs.

“Don’t be sorry Ash, it’s not your fault.” Josh doesn’t even really know what he’s saying now, he’s just trying to console the crying man in his arms, but Ashton hears him, and he feels like the wind gets knocked out of him. He can barely breath as Josh finally manages to spot Michael and flag him down. Mikey takes one look at Ashton and excuses himself from a conversation he’d been having, walking quickly towards the pair.

“What happened?” He asks as he kneels in front of the two. The situation looks dramatic, and Michael thought that the four of them were over dramatics. They were more grown up now, crying at parties wasn’t something any of them had done since they were in teenagers and Luke broke his phone and thought his mom was going to kill him (to be fair, Liz was really mad, and Luke had to do extra chores for two months to help pay for a new phone). Ashton is doing that weird breathless cry thing that Michael has only a witnessed a few times over the course of their long friendship. He puts a hand on Ash’s knee as Josh tries to explain what’s going on.

“We were catching up and I asked about Luke and-” Michael sighs and Josh shuts his mouth.

“No, uh, it’s fine Josh,” Michael reassures the drummer, “It’s just…” Michael trails off, looking for the right words to say. Ashton lets out another shudder and a big exhale and Mike scrunches up his nose, “Whoa. Ash, how much have you been drinking?”

“He’s hammered.” Josh smiles weakly and Michael nods.

“Hopefully he won’t remember this tomorrow morning.” Ashton shudders again and Josh rubs his shoulder,

“It’s okay bud,” he whispers. Michael sighs again. He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t do this in front of Josh, but the drummer’s always been pretty accepting of the 5SOS boys and their antics, and honestly, if he was going to do this in front of anyone besides his band mates, Josh is probably the first person he’d choose. Josh is good, Josh is safe.

“Ash, I know it’s been hard,” Ashton’s leg tenses under Michael’s hand, and Mike just moves to curl his fingers around Ash’s ankle, still keeping a firm hold, “I know it’s been hard and that you’ve been lonely lately but you’re okay.”

Ashton doesn’t get any better after that, and Mikey sighs. If Ash were sober this whole situation would be a lot better. If Ash were sober, this whole situation probably wouldn’t even be happening. Ashton has gotten pretty good at keeping his emotions in check over these past several months. It’s only because of how long they’ve all been friends that Michael thinks it only took a little while for them all to pick up on Ashton’s jealousy. Michael didn’t blame him. He remembers how it felt when Calum first got his soulmate, and then Luke. It was shitty. It was hard. It was lonely, more so than before because after Cal and Luke got their colors, Michael was forced to witness his friends fall in love, and it just served to remind how not in-love he was, and how much he wished he had a soulmate of his own.

Michael had only had to deal with that for a little while, though it felt like forever at the time. Ashton though, Ashton’s been watching his friend’s fall in love for years now. Ashton is hurting, and even though he’s strong and brave and completely supportive of his best friends like the saint he is, it hasn’t stopped Mike and Luke and Cal from noticing how Ashton got sad sometimes, got mad sometimes.

Michael is just kind of crouched on the ground, fingers curled around Ashton’s ankle, contemplating what to do when suddenly Calum’s there next to him. Calum at least has the decency to say hi to Josh before resting his forearm across Ashton’s lap in an effort to get the curly-haired man to look at him.

“Ash, what’s bothering you?” He asks, and Ashton’s still breathing kind of weird but he’s calmed down a little bit, enough to send a watery smile Calum’s way.

“Nothing. It’s stupid. It’s fine,” he hiccups, “I’m drunk.” Michael snorts and Cal elbows him in the ribs.

“I think he’s lonely Cal,” Michael whispers, and Calum nods. Josh is trying to hear what they’re saying, but it’s difficult with a very drunk Ashton leaning against him, trying to calm himself down. Ashton brushes his fingers against Josh’s side and mumbles another sad “sorry”. Josh squeezes his shoulders.

“I promise it’s fine Ash. Nothing’s your fault, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” More tears slip down Ashton’s face but he seems a little calmer.

His drunk brain is reeling, overcome with too many emotions. Because that’s the second time Josh has told him: _it’s not his fault_. It’s not his fault that he hasn’t found his soulmate yet. While Ashton loves to blame the universe and the fucked up system for his loneliness, he mostly just ends up blaming himself. Ash spends too much time worrying that he’s not good enough for a soulmate, that because he’s so fucked up, the universe just decided that he wouldn’t be allowed to get his colors. Ashton’s been secretly blaming himself for years, when the truth is that Josh is right. It’s not his fault that he hasn’t gotten his soulmate yet, it’s just how things are.

Ashton thinks that he needs to be reminded of that everyday. Somehow he has to remind himself, or find someone to do it for him, to remind him that _this is not his fault_.

Ashton is a lot more calm now, though he’s sure he probably looks like he’s just been hit by a truck. He pulls away from Josh enough to sniffle, and wipe his face. His breathing is still a little shaky, but he thinks he’ll be okay if he just stays here for a second, and lets himself calm down. And maybe drinks a lot more water and calls it a night. Being drunk is pretty alright until everything catches up to you, all the feelings you’ve been running away from for months. Ashton feels a bit out of control, and he knows sobering up will help him regain the illusion he’s been clinging to, the idea that he's actually in control. Which he’s not, but he’s doing his best, and it’s not his fault.

Calum and Michael look confused to say the least. Ash doesn’t even want to look at Josh, he feels bad for putting him through the entire ordeal. Michael is the first to speak, which almost makes Ash want to smile because Michael is almost _always_ the first to speak.

“So… what was that?”

Ashton’s voice sounds rough, but he uses it anyway, “I just got caught up in my feelings,” he sniffles a little and then shrugs, “I’m drunk.”

Michael lets out a bark of laughter and Calum rolls his eyes, patting Ashton’s knee, “No more booze for you tonight old man.”

It’s Ashton’s turn to laugh as he reaches up to wipe any stray tears from his eyes, “Sorry.”

Josh’s arm is still around him and Ashton can feel another reassuring squeeze from his fellow drummer, “I told you Ash, it’s fine.”

Ashton smiles softly and speaks in a voice to match, “It’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” Josh smiles and he’s being his typical safe self and Ashton couldn’t be more grateful. He sends another apologetic look towards the man before rolling his shoulders back and slowly standing up, giving Calum and Michael time to back away from where they were crouched down and rise up to meet him too.

“Think I’m gonna head home. It’s passed midnight anyway.” Ashton says, and Michael nods. He gives Ash a pat on the back and one of those best friend looks that says “we’ll talk about this later, but I’m giving you space right now because I’m a good friend and I love you” before returning to the party, probably looking to find Poem. Calum is more hesitant to leave Ashton’s side. He puts a hand on Ashton’s shoulder and squares up to him, looking him directly in the eye.

“You sure you're okay Ash? Want me to go with you? I could spend the night at your place, like the old days.” He grins a little and Ashton laughs.

“I’m okay Cal. Just drunk,” he says and Calum shakes his head affectionately. “I’m gonna call a car. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Fine,” Calum sounds exasperated, but Ashton knows he’s just trying to give him a hard time. Ash turns to leave, but is stopped by Cal suddenly pulling him back in for a hug. If Ashton hadn’t already had a mini cry fest he might have shed a tear as Calum squeezed him tight and whispered in his ear,

“It’s not your fault.”

And Ash thinks that maybe Calum caught onto what had finally calmed him down, what he’d been repeating to himself in his head after Josh reminded him of what was so so important. That this, his colorblindness, was not his fault. And he was going to be brave and bold with what was handed to him right now, and he would wait patiently. And it’s not his fault.

Ashton just sighs against his best friend before pulling away and smiling at him, and then at Josh, who’s still just sitting on the low wall, watching all of this pan out with a little smile on his face. And then Ashton excuses himself and heads home, where things start to make a little more sense.

Calum lets out a long breath and sits down heavily on the wall next to Josh.

“Sorry about that.” He says and the drummer snorts.

“I was serious when I said there was nothing to be sorry for. I get it, shit happens.” He sounds sincere and Calum is thankful that Josh is so understanding.

“I’m worried about Ash,” Cal says after a beat, “all of us are. Mikey and Luke and I, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Josh says, and he doesn’t say anything else. He just waits patiently for Calum to finish his thought.

“I think he’s lonely. I think he wants a soulmate, ya know?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that… I think he thinks sometimes that it’s his fault that he doesn’t have one. A soulmate I mean.”

“It’s not his fault.” Josh says.

“It’s not his fault.” Calum agrees. And the two are quiet for another minute, just sitting and recovering from the emotional breakdown they’d both witnessed.

“I think…” Josh speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully before speaking to Calum, “I think he needs to know that he’s enough. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“Try and remind him of that, would you?”

“I will.” Calum sounds determined, and it makes Josh smile.

“Good. He deserves to know.”

And Calum nods, because Josh is right. Ashton deserves to know. It’s not his fault. He is enough.

_**December 2021** _

_Dear soulmate,_

_It’s New Year’s Eve. I wonder where you are. There’s one of my questions: Where are you? This year, as 2021 turns to 2022? Are you happy? Are you safe? Are you hopeful?_

_I suppose at least some of those things are partially true for me this year. I’m not exactly happy. But I guess that’s alright. Life can’t always be a happy affair, some things are difficult, and there’s nothing I can do but keep going. I’m still working at the club. I’ve actually just gotten a promotion. I work more nights a week than before, and there are a few numbers that I get to lead. It’s fun to practice with the other girls, and I like the exercise, but I don’t like being ogled at so much while I’m on stage. And I want to keep fighting my manager on the private dance issue, but I don’t want to lose this job until I can find another one._

_I’m safe for the most part. I have a roof over my head and the car I got my senior year of high school is still serving me well. The only place in my life where I don’t feel safe is at work. (It seems a lot of my dissatisfaction with life stems from the club, I need to find something else.) Some men are handsy, think they can claim me as their own when I’m the exact opposite. It’s not a real lack of safety that I have, more like a feeling. I know there are security guards looking out for me behind curtains and doors, and that I’d only have to shout for someone to come to my rescue, but still, I don’t always feel as safe as I’d like. I guess this is another one of those times where I’m forced to recognize that I am not my feelings._

_Am I hopeful? I think I am. There are so many moments throughout the day where I want to give up this foolish hope that I keep clinging to. The hope that I’ll see you walking down the street, or sipping coffee at a cafe, or shopping for groceries, or something. The hope that I’ll meet you and be able to leave this life I have now to start something new with you. Sometimes that feels so far away from me, so detached from the life I that have now, that I think that maybe you’re not real at all. And yet, I can’t stop hoping. Hope is my survival mechanism, and I think the day I lose hope once and for all is the day I’ll truly lose everything._

_What do you hope for, my love?_

_I continue to miss you everyday. Life is lonely without you. I hope you are well, and that this New Year will bring you only good things. Who know, perhaps this will be the year when we finally get to meet. Even thinking about that makes me smile. You must be so wonderful._

_I’ll try to write again soon. Come quickly my dear._

_Love,_

_M_

_**August 2022** _

Ashton doesn’t know how he got dragged into doing something like this. He was just trying to be a supportive friend, but his good intentions backfired, and now he’s about to enter a strip club for the first time in a long time.

“Don’t call it a strip club, that makes it sound dirty,” some guy, Jason, turns up his nose, “It’s a gentlemen’s club.”

“Literally, what.” Ashton deadpans. It’s Jason’s birthday, and somehow Jason knows Jack. Ashton is friends with Jack, acquaintances with Jason, and the only reason he’s entering this “gentlemen’s club” is because Jack begged him not to leave him alone. Even though Jack is a grown ass man, and can definitely handle being in a strip club by himself. Ashton’s starting to think that backing out of this might be a good idea. The club doesn’t seem like his kind of scene for several reasons, one being that he cancelled plans with Luke and PJ because Jack practically begged him to come to his rescue, which means that he’s missing out on playing with Katie, who’s pretty much a miniature walking, talking human being now, and probably his favorite person in the world. He could be having quality time with his pseudo-niece, but instead he’s about to enter a dark club to watch scantily clad women dance.

Ashton's a little caught off guard in that moment, because when did he suddenly decide that he’d rather spend time with a giggling child than a bunch of very attractive dancers? Ashton wonders if this is what people mean when they talk about growing up. Suddenly Ash doesn’t care so much about the novelties of life, the things screaming for his attention. Instead he just wants to be around the people he loves. Ashton can’t help but smile a little at the thought, at how he’s grown up over these past years (he’s fucking twenty eight now, holy shit), and maybe that’s why Jack pats him on the back, grins, and says, “I knew you’d come around Ashton,” as the group of them walk into the club. Ashton feels sick.

It’s dark inside, and Ash kind of gets why Jason called it a gentlemen’s club, because it’s full of men who look expensive. Ash looks down at his own clothes and thinks he must stick out like a sore thumb, and he’s kind of okay with that because he doesn’t think he wants to be associated with these guys. The majority of them look kinda old, at least middle-aged, and as he walks by one of them blows a puff of cigar smoke into his face, which Ashton graciously chooses not to comment on as Jason leads them to a table.

The birthday boy is practically giddy with excitement and Ashton wonders exactly how old this guy is turning. So far, Ash hasn’t seen anything to get this excited about. He takes a moment to look around, locate the nearest exits in case of an emergency and/or an opportunity to bail. Even in black and white the place looks luxurious. The walls have that shiny-soft velvet look, and there’s chandeliers hanging from the ceiling in several spots. There’s a large bar spanning one side of the room with lots of bottles behind it, backed by a large mirror. There are curtained off areas spread out throughout the club, and Ashton tries not to think about what happens behind those curtains before forcing his gaze to the stage. It’s dark and empty now, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before the relaxed jazz music of the club gives way to something more provocative and the show starts. The stage itself looks to have a high ceiling and thick curtains, and there are actual live musicians off to the side, providing the cool jazz music that’s adding to the overall classy vibe of the building. The other people in Ashton’s group looked impressed with the place, but Ashton still just feels kind of sick. He misses Katie, he wonders if it’s not too late to leave and go to Luke’s house.

It’s kind of sudden when a man suddenly steps out on stage with an old fashioned looking microphone in his hand, addressing the crowd and telling them to put their hands together for the opening number. Ashton doesn’t really know where to look the entire time. He feels conflicted about watching the performance, and he feels uncomfortable seeing the faces of the other men watching. Ashton grimaces as he realizes that he definitely doesn’t want to be associated with these people; he needs to find a way out of here. Ash checks his phone. He’s only been sitting with the group for fifteen minutes. He texts Luke and asks him to call him in fifteen minutes. That’ll give him an excuse to duck out of the club and then reevaluate his life choices, and possibly call a car to take him home.

Ash is watching how the lights from the stage glitter on the chandelier when the next number starts, and he’s staring down at his shoes when the number after that begins. He can hear the men getting more and more rowdy around him, and he sees Jason handing money to a server out of the corner of his eye, and being handed a ticket in return. Jason disappears through one of the side curtains when Ashton’s phone lights up with Luke’s contact photo, and he quickly excuses himself before rushing out of the club. He’s almost to the door when he hears the announcer introduce the “star of the show”, and he’s completely out of the building by the time the sultry music starts. Ashton leans against the wall outside the club, answering his phone and bringing it up to his ear.

“Hey Luke.”

“Hey, what’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Ashton sighs, “I was just in a situation that I really didn’t want to be in. Had to get out of it. Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me Ash,” Luke chuckles, “Katie missed you tonight.”

Ashton groans, “I missed her to, believe me. I wish I would have just told Jack to fuck off and hung out with you and Peej and the little one instead. I feel like an idiot.”

“Do you need me to pick you up? Where are you anyway?”

Ashton groans again, “I don’t even wanna tell you. I’m gonna call a car to take me back to my place, I’ll tell you all about it later. Maybe tomorrow. Are you and Peej busy?”

“Tomorrow? I don’t think so. Same time as always?”

“Yep.”

Ashton chats with Luke for a bit longer, wandering away from the club entrance and standing in front of an alley instead, before thanking his friend for his help and hanging up the phone. He’s about to call a car when a sound from the alley startles him.

It’s a heavy metal door hitting the brick wall, and Ashton almost shits his pants at the sound that echoes all the way out to the sidewalk where he’s standing. He turns in time to see a large man step out the door, looking both ways and seeing a very alarmed looking Ashton standing at one end of the alley. The man laughs, calling out a “sorry” to Ashton who just smiles and waves. The burly looking man looks around again for yelling in Ashton's direction again, 

"One of our girls needs some air, don't give her any trouble, alright?" He sounds stern, and Ashton nods, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. The security guard looks a little amused at Ashton, like he can tell that he'd literally rather be anywhere than here right now. The guard nods and says a quick "thanks" before turning back to the doorway and nodding at whoever must be waiting inside. Ashton turns around, decides he'll give the girl her space, and looks down at his phone, pressing a few buttons to confirm his request for a driver. It’s quiet after that, just street noise and faded music until-

“Holy shit.”

There’s a clattering sound and more swear words from the alley behind Ashton, and he’s not really thinking about anything besides getting the fuck away from this club when he turns around and drops his phone.

It’s not like he’d imagined it would be. Ashton always thought that when he got his colors it’d be like blinking. One moment everything is black and white, and the next it’s something else. But it’s not like that at all. Ashton’s staring at the girl who looks like she’s about to start crying, and he can see the color practically explode from _her_.

And Ashton isn’t thinking, he’s just running. The girl looks slightly alarmed but then she’s running too, and they meet each other halfway, colliding like two people reunited after years of being apart, which Ashton thinks, might be kind of accurate.

Her arms are around his neck and his are around her waist and he’s lifting her off the ground with how tightly he’s holding onto her. Ashton barely even realizes that he’s crying until it’s too late, and there are tears running down his cheeks because finally, _finally_.

_At last._

Ashton doesn’t know how long it is before they both let go, and even then, they don’t really let go. The girl has got one hand resting on his shoulder, the other cradling his neck, keeping his face down closer to her, and he’s still got his arms around her waist. But they’re far enough apart now to where they can see each other, and Ashton almost laughs because she’s got tears on her cheeks too.

The girl is the first to speak, her voice shaky, and thick with emotion, “I've missed you _so_ _much_.” She says and Ashton just gathers her back up in his arms all over again, a broken, “I missed you too,” spoken softly against the skin of her neck.

When they pull back to look at each other again they’re both smiling, their eyes still wet with tears. Ashton moves his hand up to cup her face, drags his thumb across her wet cheeks. She leans into his hand, and he thinks that might be the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to him: to see how effortlessly she loves him back.

“I’m Ashton,” he finally has the brains to say, and the girl laughs, her eyes squinting in delight as she answers,

“Myka.”

“Myka,” Ashton says, trying the name out for himself. He likes it, decidedly so, and he grins. “Myka, Myka, Myka.”

She laughs again, Ashton wants to hear that sound everyday for the rest of his life. With the way Myka is looking at him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he'll be allowed to do just that.

“I..." Myka trails off, she seems nervous, and Ashton thinks he understands. He’s feeling a lot of things right now, and he can’t really tell what’s what anymore. He inches a little closer to his soulmate, basking in the warmth he can feel radiating off her skin.

“Would you come home with me? Please?” He asks, and he wants to punch himself because they literally just met and it’s probably way too soon to be asking something like that, but Myka just giggles in between yeses and it sounds a bit like a promise.

She has to go inside to get her things before they leave, and Ashton doesn’t want to let her go, but he has to, and he can feel his heart sink a little as she disappears through the heavy metal door in the brick wall of the alley way. Ashton realizes that he’s left his phone on the ground somewhere back near the sidewalk, and he walks over towards it, picks it up and sees that the car he asked for is almost there. He’s watching the street for said car when he hears a a door slam and a little gasp from behind him, and his heart soars, because even after only saying a few words to each other, his heart knows what her voice sounds like.

He turns around and sees Myka looking worried until her eyes fall on him, and then she looks relieved. There are angry voices shouting from inside the building, and Myka makes sure to have a tight hold around her things before running down the alley towards Ashton.

"We gotta run," she says, "They're mad at us."

"They?" Ashton asks, but he doesn't hesitate to grab Myka's hand in his own and start running down the sidewalk, as far from the club as they need to go. Myka nods.

"I just... I left. I'm running away," she says, and then she laughs a little, and then she laughs a lot, and Ashton thinks she looks _free_. And he doesn't know anything about her, doesn't know what she's running away from, but he'll gladly go with her.

Eventually they slow down to a stop, a few blocks away from the club and it looks like no one's chasing them. Myka's a little out of breath, but so so happy as she looks up at Ashton.

“I-" she gasps a little, "I was afraid for a second. When I had to go get my things. I was afraid you'd left." She mumbles the last part and Ashton tightens his grip on her hand,

“I didn’t. And I won’t.” He says, and that too sounds like a promise. Myka smiles at him and Ashton blinks twice before asking,

“Can I kiss you?”

Myka sounds breathless and looks completely in love as she nods,

“Please.”

And Ashton leans down and presses his lips to hers, and his heart jumps in his chest, and all he can think is _at last_.

_At last._

_**October 2022** _

Ashton’s fingers intertwine with Myka’s as they lay on their bed, out of breath, but happy. Ashton can feel the coolness of the band on her left ring finger, and the weight of the ring on his own, and he thinks that he’s never been more content than he is right now.

Their legs intertwine under the sheets as the moon shines through the windows, reflecting off of their skin. Ashton presses a soft kiss to Myka’s lips, whispering softly to her in the moonlight.

“I love you.”

Myka shifts closer to Ashton and lays her free hand on his bare stomach, “I love you too.” She smiles and Ashton lets out a happy sigh, reveling in this moment of skin and soft and soulmates. It’s quiet for another moment before Myka whispers,

“Ash?”

“Yes?”

“I want to show you something.”

Ashton doesn’t say anything, just looks over at his soulmate and smiles. She looks nervous, but Ashton knows she has nothing to be afraid of. Not with him. He promised her from day one he wouldn’t leave, and it’s been two months and a lot of learning, and he still hasn’t left, because with each thing he learns about her she only grows more beautiful to him, even when Myka tells him about the things she thinks are ugly. So as Myka gets up from the bed and the moonlight reflects all silvery and blue ( _blue_ ) off her skin, makes her glow, Ashton thinks that whatever she has to show him now will be beautiful too. And so he waits patiently for Myka to grab whatever it is she needs before sliding into bed next to him again. Ashton sits up against the headboard next to her, runs a hand up and down her bare arm as she holds a small shoe box in her lap.

She presents it to Ash and he takes it carefully. Though the exterior looks rough, Ashton can tell by the way Myka holds it that whatever is inside is precious to her. He presses a kiss to the skin of her shoulder before carefully taking the lid of the shoe box off, and setting it on the bed beside him.

“They’re letters,” Myka explains before Ashton even has time to wonder what the bundled up pieces of papers are. “I started writing to you when I was in high school, and I saved them all so that one day I could show them to you. I guess… it’s kinda stup-”

“It’s not stupid,” Ashton interrupts and Myka blushes, “It’s beautiful and it’s completely you.”

Myka looks like she doesn’t know what to say, so Ashton pulls the bundle of letters out of the box and gently starts to tug the rubber band holding them together off, “Can I really read them?” he asks, and he feels a little small right now because Myka’s been doing this for him for years, and he wishes he had something to show her in exchange, but all he can give her are the words he has now, which don’t feel like enough.

“Yeah, you can,” Myka smiles softly, “They’re all in order. The one on top is the first one I wrote to you, and the one on the bottom is the last.”

Ashton unfolds the first letter, and his hands are a little shaky, but Myka’s got her head on his shoulder, anchoring him as he reads the first words she wrote to him.

_Dear soulmate,_

_I was at work today imagining what it would be like for you to suddenly burst in the room when I had this idea…_

The two soulmates spend the rest of the night reading the letters Myka had written Ashton. They laugh and they cry, and they feel so thankful that the loneliness Ashton can see weaving its way through Myka’s words feels so far away in that moment. Ashton answer the questions Myka asked so long ago, and Myka listens earnestly, soaking up everything he has to say. He tells her what he’s afraid of, what he hopes for, he promises to take her out for hot chocolate as often as he can, and he tells her that she has nothing to be sorry for, that it’s not her fault, that she is enough, and Myka kisses Ashton until she’s dizzy.

It’s in the early hours of the morning when Ashton gets to the last letter. The moon is starting to get low in the sky, and soon he'll be able to watch the sunrise in all it's beautiful orange-pink-yellow glory with the person he loves most in the world. He opens the letter slowly, his eyes scanning the page and he feels his heart speed up in his chest.

_Dear Ashton,_

_You are more amazing than I ever could have imagined._

_Usually I like to end my letters by saying, “come quickly”. I missed you so much for years but now you’re here and you’re real and I didn’t think I could ever love like this._

_I think I’ll end this with the words you said to me, the day we first met. Because I continue to feel these words every time I look at you._

_**At last.**_   

_With love,_

_Myka_

And _yes,_ Ashton thinks _, at last._

And he kisses her again.

* * *

_**the end. thank you for reading my lovelies. it’s been a wild ride. i’m feeling nostalgic, and i’d love to hear from you, so please feel free to leave me a nice little note in the comments that i can cry over later if you feel so inclined.** _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this very long, one part story (10,378 words, holy shit). if you want more, let me know. if not that's cool.  
> k bye.


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